All in Time
by Elantine
Summary: Vivian was never one to jeopardize a mission-for anyone. She was rational and dedicated, and that's what made her a good X-Man. But all of this seems to change when a mission takes her to 1943 for an indefinite amount of time. Lost and alone, she draws comfort from the one person she knows she can't risk getting close to but can't resist.Why did Bucky Barnes have to be so charming?
1. Rule 1: Don't Fight the Locals

**A/N: Okay, so just a quick note before we get started. This story incorporates the X-Men, and for it to make sense with this story (as the MCU does not include mutants), what I have here won't line up with either the movies or the comics. However, this chapter is the primary one that uses any X-Men other than my OC. The others will feature them much less, and therefore be less confusing (hopefully). Also, to be clear, this starts at the end of** _ **The Winter Soldier**_ **.**

 **I would also like to apologize in advance for any mistakes as this is unedited.**

 **And that should be everything. Enjoy!**

Shocked and concerned gray eyes stared at the television. The screen still showed the continuous loop that the news station had set up of the Helicarrier crashing into the Potomac. It had been running for the better part of the day now, and Vivian was sure that she would never forget it.

This was, of course, nothing _too_ far out of the ordinary for the world anymore. Especially for her. After the alien attack in Manhattan, it seemed that the world would never been the same. This was a cause for concern for any rational human being who wanted to simply live a safe and normal life, but for Vivian and those she lived with, it could be the start of something much larger and worse as well.

Vivian forced the horrified expression on her face to lessen some after Kitty, who was sitting on the opposite side of the couch, let out a low breath and turned to face her. "Crazy to think that all of this is happening. Makes me worry for what will happen next…"

Vivian chose not to reply, only furrowing her brow and pursing her lips in response. Vague as she was, Vivian knew exactly what Kitty was referring to. Years ago, the idea of hiding peacefully in a mansion full of other naturally enhanced people, away from the prying eyes of anyone who may scream "monster" once they figured out that they weren't like them, seemed relatively easy. Now the world had turned into an unrecognizable place with super-powered people coming out of nowhere and near-global catastrophes hitting an all-time high. It was only so long before a particularly brave mutant came forward and opened the world's eyes to their existence, or they were forced to intervene and save the world themselves when the Avengers ultimately failed.

While the thought of no longer having to hide who she is was a liberating one, the knowledge of what would happen to her and her kind after was enough to sour it entirely.

And Vivian knew better than anyone what exactly people thought of mutants. She was a lower-level telepath, nowhere near possessing the capabilities of Professor Xavier or even Jean Grey, but powerful enough all the same. So she was blessed with the gift of always knowing what people thought of her (and everything else). It was hard enough dealing with the occasional distasteful thought about her outfit that day slipping through her carefully constructed walls, but hearing her parents' terror and hate-filled minds _scream_ at her when she showed them what she could do was enough to permanently turn her off from the idea of sharing it with anyone else again.

She had been fourteen at the time. Professor Xavier had found her shortly thereafter, and he had fixed everything, wiping her big coming out moment from both of her parents' minds and then taking her away to his school that was full of people like her. People who wouldn't fear or hate her simply for what she was. He had saved her from the hatred reserved solely for that which one doesn't understand. And he had saved her from herself as well.

But Vivian didn't like to think about these things, having always preferred to remain happy despite what life threw at her—at least outwardly.

That was a challenge on days like today though, when she had a terrible sense of foreboding and only had it amplified by the minds of all of the others crammed into the living area to stare at the screen in quiet wonder.

Moments later, a breaking news reel appeared at the bottom of the screen and the news anchors were quickly changing topic.

"Breaking news—Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America, has reportedly been taken to an unnamed hospital to undergo treatment for what was only described as "severe injuries." These injuries were likely received from what sources are calling the Winter Soldier." As the title left her mouth, images of the mysterious assassin began to pop up on the screen. Some of them old, some of them from as recently as that day. Most of them were unfocused and clearly taken from a poor quality cell phone camera. But one struck Vivian rather hard. It was a close up of the man's face, his hair wild and partially obscuring the only part of his face that wasn't covered by his black mask. But unlike many other pictures, this one depicted him without his (honestly, atrocious) goggles on; and what Vivian saw in the surprisingly stunning blue eyes made her blood run cold.

Nothing.

She had never seen eyes so devoid of any emotion before, and it left her rather unsettled. Which made the next words out of the woman's mouth come as even more of a shock.

"And it appears, according to several files recently released by the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, that the identity of this assassin has finally been revealed. And we can hardly believe it." More images graced the screen, this time one of the man in what looked like a cryogenic tank, face lax and hair still long and tangled. But the one that they placed next to it left Vivian, and all of the other students in the room, rather confused. It was a face that most of them knew, as it was in many of their history textbooks. In fact, it looked like the exact picture that Vivian remembered seeing in her books, with him in his uniform and his hat slightly askew.

It only took a moment of staring at the two pictures before the resemblance became clear and confusion gave way to silent horror.

But that couldn't _really_ be Sergeant James Barnes could it?

The woman currently handling the news sure seemed to think so. "These leaked files confirm the Winter Soldier's identity as James Buchannan Barnes, former Howling Commando member and best friend of Captain America."

It was unfortunately that moment that Professor Xavier decided to intervene. "Kitty, would you mind shutting that off? There's no need to continue gaping over it when there are lessons you _all_ could be working on, agreed?"

Kitty rushed to grab the remote and turn the TV off, stammering an apology to the professor. The room, which had been mostly full of younger students, quickly emptied as well.

 _You seem worried_.

Vivian turned in her seat to face the professor as he rolled into the room, tilting her head in acknowledgment at the thought that he projected towards her. She merely allowed him to further explore her thoughts in response, having long ago learned that there was no point in trying to hide anything from him. The professor was one of the few people she trusted with her thoughts anyway.

 _Ah. I see. You're concerned what this sudden leak of information and destruction of a major government organization may mean for us and our safety._

Vivian's lips quirked slightly in response to his quick deduction. _Well, among other things, yes._

Professor Xavier returned her half-hearted smile. _Well rest assured Vivian, we will do all we can to protect both ourselves and the humans from whatever lay ahead._

"Okay," Kitty interrupted their internal conversation. "I know you're both doing that creepy thing where you talk to each other in your heads, and I need you to stop. I feel _so_ left out."

That earned Kitty the first real laugh out from Vivan all day. "Sorry, Kitty. I just forget sometimes."

Kitty merely rolled her eyes playfully in response before turning to the professor. "Was there something that you needed professor?"

"Not at this moment, no," Xavier shook his head. "I merely wanted to relay that you both should get some rest, as I have a feeling I will be needing the two of you to partake in a rather large mission tomorrow morning. Meet me in my office at eight o'clock, sharp." And with that, he wheeled around and out of the room.

Kitty and Vivian shared a skeptical look. "Well… that wasn't ominous or anything."

Kitty returned Vivian's sentiment with an exasperated nod before checking her watch. "Jesus. It's only 8! What kind of mission could he be sending us on?"

Sadly, Vivian didn't know the answer to that question. But regardless, she decided to follow the professor's advice and head up to her room for the night.

* * *

That was the plan, anyway.

It turned out that Vivian was not actually in for a restful night's sleep.

Vivian was actually no longer a student at Xavier's Institute for Gifted Children, having graduated six years ago and since gone to college. She was now back at the mansion, in a tentatively permanent status. She had graduated college two years prior, with a degree in English that had thus far gotten her nowhere, and had been bouncing around for a while now trying to decide what she wanted to do. So here she was, back at the only childhood home she cared to think about, deciding whether she wanted to take the professor up on his offer to actually _teach_ some of these kids. Something Vivian didn't exactly find thrilling.

In the meantime, she made herself useful by looking after all of the girls on her floor. Making sure they didn't get into too much trouble and were alright. It was as she was making these rounds that Vivian was pulled into one girl's room to help her with her Geometry homework (something Vivian could only mildly lend any assistance in) and as she left her she had found another girl sobbing uncontrollably in the bathroom for unknown reasons and she had to try to coax the necessary information out of her and talk her down.

It was now just after 10 p.m., which was not really all that late. However, after the day's events, Vivian wasn't quite ready to sleep.

Instead, she pulled out her laptop and began digging through the files that Natasha Romanoff had helpfully leaked onto the internet for more information about the Winter Soldier.

Vivian had always been a fan of history, World War II in particular. This, naturally, made Captain America and the Howling Commandos her childhood heroes. And she had always held a soft spot in her heart for the only member to die in the war efforts.

Vivian was no stranger to sacrifice, and that was likely what drew her to his story then as well as now. It was just rather sad to learn that his sacrifice had not ended when he fell from that train in 1944, and it only got worse from there.

So, that was how Vivian spent her evening, scrolling through file after file on the Winter Soldier and all of the horrors that he faced during his time with Russia and HYDRA. _Seven decades_ worth of torture that she couldn't even imagine.

When she could no longer stomach the images and words (many of which she relied on google translate to help her understand) that assaulted her, she closed out of all of the tabs she had opened. She laid in her bed for a moment, breathes low and shallow as she tried to ease the nausea she felt enough to find sleep. However, she quickly realized that that wasn't meant to happen. Instead, she decided that she still had a morbid curiosity that was pushing her to get up and rummage through her closet to find an old World War II history book that she had stashed there some time ago.

As it turned out, the book had an entire section dedicated to Captain America and his Howling Commandos and their lives, before, during, and after the war. It was around one in the morning when she settled back into bed, the book clutched tightly to her chest, and began to remind herself of history that she had long forgotten. She didn't fall asleep until 4 a.m. or so, and when she did she was still draped over the book, and though she would never admit it, there were a few tears that had managed to streak down her cheek and land on the open pages.

She had never had a personal connection to either Captain America or his lost best friend. She did, however, feel a deep sense of hurt for both of them at that moment when she was faced with all that they had lived through and all that they had lost. All in the name for their country, spectacularly full of people she knew would never thank them, and would even push for James Buchanan Barnes' execution were he ever to resurface.

The last thought Vivian was aware of before she finally allowed herself some rest was that she hoped that he never did, for his own sake.

* * *

"Why do you look like you were hit by a truck?"

Kitty's sudden question had Vivian snapping out of her semi-unconscious state, lurching forward in the uncomfortable wooden chair that she was currently residing in. She arrived in the professor's office only a few minutes ago, at ten minutes to 8. At the time, she had been alone, but it appeared that Kitty had finally arrived.

"Oh good. For a moment, I was worried that I only _felt_ like I've been struck by oncoming traffic. I'm relieved to hear that my pain isn't only inward."

Kitty giggled at her friend's dry humor. "Late night?"

Vivian sighed heavily and tipped back in the chair as Kitty took a seat in the one beside her. "Yeah, not the fun kind though. Just up all night doing some… research."

"Research?" Kitty questioned, raising a slender eyebrow in response to Vivian's vague answer.

Luckily, she was saved from having to reply by the sudden appearance of one of their students who came bursting through the door, huffing loudly.

"Sorry I'm late!" Cassidy panted as soon as she entered the room.

Vivian and Kitty shared a look before turning back to the girl. "Um… it's alright. The professor isn't even here yet. But..."

"What are you doing here?" Vivian finished, sadly not in the mood to beat around the bush after only three and a half hours of sleep.

"Oh!" the girl, a seventeen year old with bright blue eyes and curly blonde hair, chirped. Vivian normally found her rather cute, what with her being the literal embodiment of a ray of sunshine, but this morning her cheeriness wasn't all that welcome. "You didn't know? I'm going on this mission with you."

Kitty cocked her head to the side in confusion. "You are?"

Cassidy nodded excitedly, her near-permanent smile turning wicked. "Oh yeah. Actually, I'm the one _taking_ you."

Vivian's eyebrows shot up in surprise. If Cassidy was taking them, that could only mean…

"Ah, it appears that Miss Baker has beaten me to the big reveal as to the nature of your mission." Professor Xavier wheeled through his office just as Cassidy took a seat in the corner of the room. He smiled at them pleasantly as he rolled behind his desk, ignoring both of the older girls' confused expressions.

"You're sending us back in time somewhere?" Vivian questioned, though she was more than sure that that was the answer considering Cassidy's particular… _talent_.

"Yes."

That was the only answer that they received. Both girls shifted uncomfortably and shared a look.

"Well… where? And, uh… why?" Kitty tentatively questioned.

"And why us?" Vivian added hastily. It was rare that anyone outside than the core X-Men team were asked to complete a mission, so she was rather skeptical.

"All in time," Xavier chided amusedly. "This came up rather suddenly with yesterday's events, but what I need from you is information."

This did nothing to answer the more important aspects of their questions, and Vivian was quickly losing her patience in her sleep-deprived state. And while she was sure the professor was already aware of this, as he didn't have to _try_ to read one's thoughts to do so like she did, she made sure to project it rather forcefully. Just to be sure.

The professor only chuckled in response to her efforts. "All right, I suppose you can know the details."

Vivian smiled icily. "Oh, _thank_ you."

"As you can imagine, the recent SHIELD leak has compromised a lot of classified information. Some of these files indicated something rather… disturbing," the professor finally revealed, ignoring Vivian's sass. At their blank looks, he continued. "In the interest of remaining proactive in our efforts to remain hidden from the outside world, we had a system run through all of the files that were released. Most were clear of any knowledge relating to mutants, but there was one that gave us reason to be concerned."

Kitty sighed heavily and Vivian muttered, "There always is."

The professor chuckled at their less than enthusiastic responses. "Indeed. Fortunately, it wasn't much. Only a paragraph or so in a file of Dr. Erskine's that details some of the experiments he observed at HYDRA. But it is enough to warrant a follow-up."

Kitty furrowed her brows. "So what is it you want us to do exactly?"

"Well, that is where it gets a bit… complicated. For now, we'll call it a reconnaissance mission. Which answers your question as to why _you_ , Miss Grant. You and Miss Pryde are the best that we currently have that are suited for such a mission."

Vivian nodded solemnly, gray eyes narrowed as she tried to process everything the professor was telling her. "Okay, so… Where exactly are we going?"

Professor Xavier allowed his lips to quirk up into a small smile before replying.

"Not far… only Brooklyn."

Vivian snorted. "Alright. Brooklyn _when_?"

"1943."

"…Oh."

* * *

"Where did the professor say he got these clothes again?" Vivian questioned, tugging on the hem of her rather short dress in annoyance. Which only created further problems with the upper half of the dress. She huffed in annoyance before giving up on making herself decent, resigned to the fact she would just have to travel back in time with everything she had to offer on display.

Kitty giggled at her friend's current predicament. "He didn't. Not a good fit for you?"

"Apparently whoever these belonged to wasn't 5 foot 6 and didn't have boobs."

This only furthered Kitty's amusement. "Well, she may have had boobs. Just not _your_ boobs."

Shortly after, the girls were joined by their younger companion, who, as always, came running from the mansion to the agreed upon waiting place of the front lawn.

"Hey guys!" she greeted breathlessly, before her eyes quickly took note of Vivian's struggle. "And hello to you too."

Vivian tried to suppress her grin. "Yes. I get it. They're pretty out there, but there's not a whole lot to be done about it unless you have a more extensive 1940's wardrobe."

"Oh, no," Cassidy shook her head. "Not complaining. Just happily acknowledging."

"I see you found your period-appropriate clothing alright," Professor Xavier noted as he interrupted their similarly related conversation with his appearance. "Are you girls ready?"

All three girls nodded with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Good. Now, one more time, please go over the plan."

Cassidy happily obliged. "Take them to Brooklyn in 1943. Find Dr. Erskine."

"We get close enough to him for Viv to try to read him and find out what he knows," Kitty smoothly took over. "If we need to, we can initiate an interaction with him to get whatever answers we need. Remove any memories of this interaction. If we believe a follow-up with Hydra is necessary, travel back to confirm."

"And try not to look like we're from 2014. Or reveal our powers. Or die," Vivian added helpfully.

"Excellent," the professor approved with a smile and a nod. "Then I think you are ready."

Vivian closed her eyes briefly before turning to face her companions. Cassidy was bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet, looking like she was ready to take on the world while Kitty eyed her wearily out of the corner of her eye with her arms crossed and a look of determination on her face. Vivian sighed heavily. This was going to be a long trip.

"Okay!" Cassidy chirped. And then with a wave of her small, manicured hand, a large, swirling purple hole opened in front of them. She turned to the others. "Ready?"

Vivian shared a resigned look with Kitty one last time before the each grasped one of Cassidy's outreached hands, collectively stepping through the portal into what was, hopefully, 1943's Brooklyn.

* * *

Vivian walked determinedly, head bent down with her vibrant auburn hair obscuring most of her face. She had only been in 1943 for about an hour and she was already lost.

Upon their arrival, the girls had set out in search of Dr. Erskine, who was supposed to be somewhere around Brooklyn looking for recruits for Project REBIRTH. They had decided it would likely be quicker if they split up and sought the doctor out, checking all of the enlistment centers they could find. Cassidy had accompanied Kitty, who would be discreetly peeking through the centers, looking for the man that was featured in the picture that the professor had shown them. This left Vivian to roam the streets of New York on her own, trying to search through the thoughts of anyone who may lead her to her target.

Unfortunately, Vivian's telepathy was typically manifested as a distinct buzzing at the back of her head that she had to tune to find a clear channel. This meant she was continually flipping the channel from person to person, concentrating on trying to find anything helpful, though she didn't even know what that would be. And this left her rather vulnerable and confused when she searched through the mind of the 100th or so person she had passed and realized she had no idea where she was anymore.

Vivian huffed and did a quick 360, looking all around her for any familiar landmark. But she supposed she wouldn't find any. She had been too focused on her task of creeping through people's thoughts to pay attention to her surroundings, and a lot had changed in the 70 years it would take for this Brooklyn to turn into a Brooklyn that she was even remotely familiar with.

She paused for only a moment longer before deciding to turn around and go back the way she came, hoping that she hadn't subconsciously made any turns she wasn't aware of. She would try to find the diner that she had agreed to meet Kitty and Cassidy at that evening and try to stay closer to it, maybe buy a map on the way. And by buy, she meant discreetly steal as she had no usable money. That thought earned another unhappy exhale from Vivian's painted red lips. No money meant she probably wouldn't be eating until they found Dr. Erskine and retrieved the necessary information. Fabulous.

It was as Vivian was contemplating how long she could last while mercilessly being deprived of food that she was interrupted by a rather unpleasant, drunken man shouting at her from across the street. She didn't realize that he was even talking to her at first, as he was mostly just yelling and waving his arms around a bit. But after she quickly took stock of her surroundings, she realized he was crossing the street and heading straight for her.

Deciding she didn't really want to deal with this at the moment, she picked up her pace and quickly changed direction. Which turned out to be a mistake as the moment after she turned she found herself faced with a dead-end alley and the man had finally caught up with her.

"Hey, sweetheart. You goin' somewhere?" the man leered at her from behind.

Vivian rolled her eyes in exasperation, about to quietly step into his mind and make him go elsewhere. But something the professor had warned her of earlier made her hesitate. The problem with Vivian using her telepathy to control the actions of others was that she wasn't supposed to change anything in the past if she could help it. What if she told this guy to get lost, and he wound up going somewhere that would get him killed or otherwise significantly alter the timeline?

So, though it pained her, Vivian realized this idiot would have to make his own decisions, which would hopefully lead him to whatever path he would have been taking had she never entered his world.

With that thought in mind, Vivian took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and turned to face her new friend.

He was probably late 20s, early 30s with shaggy brown hair and glossed over brown eyes. He was rather large, about 6' 5'' and somewhat impressive muscles were visible through his tight gray t-shirt. He was clearly pretty gone at this point, despite it only being 4 in the afternoon, and he was leaning casually against a nearby dumpster for support. Vivian relaxed slightly at the sight, thinking he didn't appear very threatening in this state.

She smiled in what she hoped to be a reserved, but friendly way before replying, "Oh yeah, just meeting my boyfriend at the diner."

She had hoped that the mention of her fake boyfriend would be enough of a suggestion for the guy to move on, but she was sadly mistaken.

"A boyfriend, huh?" the man slurred, eyeing her up and down in a way that Vivian decided she most definitely did _not_ like. "And he lets you walk around like that all by yourself? Don't he know it's dangerous out here?"

Vivian furrowed her brows and frowned when he took a slow step forward, taking one back as well. She wasn't really sure what he meant by _like that_ , but she didn't appreciate it and had no qualms about sharing her displeasure with the idiot. "No. I don't need a man to take care of me, and I don't appreciate you suggesting otherwise. Now if you'd let me be—"

Vivian tried to move past him, but was quickly cut off when the man moved much faster than she had thought him capable of in his state, grabbing her arm and whirling her around to press her against the cool brick wall. She gasped in surprise and slight pain as her head cracked against the wall, and then tried not to vomit when the man leaned down and whispered in her face, "Well, I disagree, doll. Girls like you shouldn't be out by yourself and you shouldn't be talking to me like that neither. That man o' yours should teach you some manners, but since he's not here, guess it's up to me." And with that, he chuckled and reached down to start to slide his hand up her partially exposed thigh.

Vivian held back the involuntary gag that tried to surface at the revolting combination of his words, the smell of his breath, and the feel of his touch on her skin and was about to utilize the years of training the X-Men had provided her with to take him down without her powers, consequences be damned, when a strong, deep voice interrupted them.

"Let her go."

Vivian breathed a slight sigh of relief at the thought of someone else coming to help, hoping that the man would just let her go for fear of an impending ass-kicking, lessening the chances of Vivian royally fucking anything up. But when Vivian looked over her attacker's shoulder to see the man who had so gallantly come to her rescue, she had to look _down_. Which was a pretty bad sign.

And it only got worse. She honestly couldn't believe that such a strong and commanding voice had come from such a small man, but there was certainly no one else around. And while she admired the guy for coming to help her, despite the fact the man that currently had his hand trying to work its way up her dress was roughly twice his size. And she doubted that he would be able to scare the guy off, as she had hoped.

The drunken idiot clearly noticed this too and let out a too-loud laugh that made Vivian flinch. "Oh yeah? And who are you? Her _boyfriend_?"

"No," the same voice replied, still confusing the hell out Vivian because it sounded so _familiar_ and out of place. "But you obviously aren't either, pal."

Mr. Day-Drinker apparently found that hilarious and let out another roaring laugh. "Yeah, well we'll see about that, won't we sweetheart?"

And with that he was leaning towards her again, and Vivian quickly decided that she didn't like where this was going and attempted to bring her knee up and into his groin. However, the man appeared to still have pretty decent reflexes despite his drunken state and blocked her attack by kicking her leg back against the wall. She cried out in surprised pain but quickly fell silent when the man let go of her arm to only grasp her throat instead, lifting her up and slamming her back against the wall.

Vivian narrowed her eyes in anger at being bested a _second_ time by this idiot, and was about to strike him again when her maybe-savior hit him with something from behind.

The man cursed and thankfully dropped Vivian, who fell rather ungracefully to her knees on the rough pavement. The relief was short lived, however, when she saw him round on the kid who had saved her.

"Alright, that's it punk—"

"You're the punk," the small, blonde man cleverly threw back before taking a swing. Vivian winced at the sight. His small fist appeared to barely make contact with the man's face, who in turn simply laughed and delivered a punch of his own directly into the small guy's stomach. The force was strong enough to make him double over and briefly stumble to the ground, groaning in pain. Vivian saw him start to get back up, which was when she decided to intervene this time.

Popping up from her place on the ground, Vivian swiped at the gigantic man's legs with her own, taking him by surprise and sending him down to the ground with a stunned grunt. Deciding it was time to cut her loses, Vivian scrambled to the blonde man's side and grabbed his arm, trying to pull him up and urge him to run away with her. This idea was short lived, however, and Muscles decided to reach forward and grab her by her long, now tangled hair and throw her back into the side of the dumpster with a loud crash.

Vivian groaned in pain and caught herself, once again, on her hands and knees. She looked up to see the man give her blonde friend another punch, this time to the face, that sent him to the ground once again before he rounded on her. His eyes were no longer glassy and looked rather murderous instead.

Vivian was quickly realizing that she had sadly underestimated this man, and was beating herself up pretty hard about letting him lay his hands on her not once, but three times. She was determined not to let it happen again as she slowly rose to her feet to face him.

This appeared to be unnecessary though, when another voice interrupted their stare-down. "Alright, pal. I think you've had enough. Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

Vivian contained the urge to roll her eyes at the cliché, and tried to look over the shoulder of the man in front of her to take a look at her new, hopefully more adept savior (though she didn't _really_ need the help, thank you very much, she was just… conserving energy) and see if he would be able to handle the situation without her interfering. Unfortunately, her view was blocked when her attacker turned around to face him instead.

He laughed again before saying, "And you think that's you?"

The other guy didn't laugh, but Vivian could hear the hint of a smile in his voice when he replied, "Well I don't think it's her. So you might as well give me a shot."

Muscles laughed one last time before taking a swing at the newcomer—and promptly fell to the ground after missing and apparently being hit in the face instead.

"Jesus!" Vivian exclaimed, recoiling and falling back to the ground in shock. He had actually just knocked his mountain of a man out with _one punch_ to the jaw.

This time, the mystery man _did_ laugh. "Nah," he drawled, Brooklyn accent coming out loud and clear. "You can call me Bucky."

At this, Vivian's still-shocked gray eyes snapped from the unconscious man lying before her to the blue eyes of the new man who was now extending a hand to her. She didn't take it though, finding herself lost in the eyes of a man she had just spent several hours researching the night before. He was gorgeous, there was no denying that, but that wasn't what shocked her into her stupefied silence. It was the _look_ in those crystalline blue eyes that took her breath away, so full of mischief and _happiness_. A far cry from the dead eyes of the James Barnes from her time, or even from the haunted and distant eyes of the man he would be in less than a year.

It was in that moment that a small piece of Vivian's heart broke for this stranger who had no idea what he was about to be subjected to.

Bucky, on his part, took her silence as a bad sign and furrowed his brows before asking, "Hey, doll, you alright?"

Vivian stared at him for only a moment longer before blinking and trying to refocus her thoughts. She swallowed thickly and croaked out a pathetic "yeah" before taking his hand and allowing him to help her up.

When she looked up to his face again, he was smiling at her and whereas moments ago Vivian had felt her heart break, this time she felt it do something _very_ different, in the form of speeding up and beating erratically, taking her breath away once more.

Vivian wasn't typically the type of girl to take one look at a guy and be putty in his hands, but it appeared that 1940's Bucky was apparently an exception to that rule.

And boy, did that put her in a lot of trouble.

 **A/N Alright! So, first chapter is out of the way. I really hope you all liked it, and please let me know if you did. I'm still not sure about writing this, so any kind reviews will definitely motivate me to do so, and probably fast if they're nice enough ;) Also feel free to leave any constructive criticism or ideas as well.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	2. Rule 2: Don't Flirt with Assassins

"I'm tellin' ya, Steve. You should ask her."

Steve sighed heavily, kicking roughly at the sidewalk as he did. "What's the point? She'll just say no," he argued weakly for the fifth or so time in the past half hour.

He and Bucky had just left a showing at the local theater, where they had seen Gracie Adams, a cute little redhead that they had went to high school with and Steve had been sweet on once upon a time. Bucky, ever trying to encourage Steve to actually do something other than hang out with him and go to his art classes (preferably with a pretty dame), hadn't stopped pestering him about asking her to go dancing since.

"Then it's her loss. But you'll never know till ya try. She might surprise you," Bucky said, shooting his much smaller friend a smile and wink.

Steve rolled his eyes at his best friend's antics. Even _Steve_ could tell that he was charismatic, but he wasn't one of Bucky's many girls, so the playful charm didn't sway him as he answered, "They never do."

Bucky sighed dramatically, but gave up. He knew that it was a lost cause, as Steve had never been one to put himself out there and actually _try_ to have some fun with someone of the opposite sex, and he did understand his hesitance, but it had only gotten worse since the war started and Bucky would likely be leaving in just a month to begin his thirty days of boot camp. He didn't like the thought of leaving Steve in Brooklyn all alone.

But, of course, that's not what he said.

"Alright, alright. Suit yourself." As they passed the building to their left, the gym that Bucky trained at, he suddenly remembered that he had forgotten a jacket in there the other day. Turning to Steve, he said, "Wait here for a minute, pal. I gotta grab somethin'." And then he was running inside, not giving Steve a second look.

Bucky nodded to one of the trainers that was leaning against the wall as he entered, but didn't attempt to make conversation, preferring to just grab the jacket and be on his way. The plan went smoothly at first, Bucky making his way to the locker room, finding his brown, light-weight jacket hanging in a random locker where he had left it, and going back the way he came. But as he approached the door, the bald, burly trainer standing next to the door decided to try to make conversation about Bucky's upcoming match.

Generally, Bucky didn't mind talking to the guy. He was pretty swell; didn't bother him much and was nice to Steve whenever he came along with him, unlike a lot of the other guys. But he was actually rather anxious to get going as he was hoping to catch a _friend_ of his, Dottie, at the diner before she got off and offer to take her dancing that night.

So, he answered the guy's questions as politely and quickly as he could, joking a bit about the guy he was up against and how long they thought it would last, before excusing himself and rushing back outside to meet Steve.

That is, if Steve had actually stayed put like he had so nicely asked him to. But he had not.

 _Typical Steve_.

Bucky exhaled heavily, cursing his friend's tendency to wander off in search of trouble, and walking the way they had originally been, hoping he would run into him. He was about a minute into his search when he heard the tale-tell signs of a scuffle.

He considered, for a moment, that it might _not_ have been Steve, maybe just some other idiots fighting in an alley, so he could just check, and then be on his way and hopefully still find Steve in time to catch Dottie. This thought lasted only a second, though, when Bucky remembered that it _was_ Steve that he was thinking about. _Of course_ it would be him.

So, with one last heavy sigh and a wistful glance in the direction of Dottie's diner, he crossed the street to check the showdown out.

Steve got into these fights (and subsequently, so did Bucky) on about a weekly basis. So Bucky was expecting the usual scene of some punk having Steve backed into a corner and taunting him as Steve (stupidly) held his ground.

So, imagine his surprise when this was _not_ one of those times.

What he found instead was Steve lying on the pavement, weakly struggling to get up and wheezing terribly at the feet of a man that was much larger than the usual guys Steve found himself in trouble with. But the man was no longer facing him. Instead, he had set his eyes on what appeared to be a woman, looking a little worse for wear with her back to a dumpster while she stared the man down as if she intended to murder him where he stood.

Bucky could have laughed at the scene, the strange woman reminding him so much of Steve in that moment that it was comical, but his inner gentlemen wouldn't allow such a thing when a lady was in imminent danger.

"Alright, pal. I think you've had enough. Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" he called out to the man, who appeared to be drunk if the way he swayed slightly on his large, boot covered feet indicated anything.

Bucky scoffed, thinking that it should be easy, despite the guy's much larger size.

The man laughed, not bothering to look back at him, and taunted, "And you think that's you?"

Bucky couldn't contain the smirk that came at his mocking. "Well I don't think it's her. So you might as well give me a shot."

The man laughed again before turning surprisingly quickly, and taking a swing at Bucky. Luckily, Bucky was still faster and had the added advantage of _not_ being intoxicated, and simultaneously dodged the incoming blow to the left and swung out his right fist, hitting the giant square in the jaw. To Bucky's great pleasure and pride, that was all it took before the man fell heavily onto the ground with a loud thud, directly in front of the girl, who promptly exclaimed, "Jesus!" and fell on her backside in what he could only assume was shock.

Bucky, despite being the upstanding gentleman that he was, couldn't contain the laugh at her expense. "Nah," Bucky drawled, looking down at the girl sprawled on the ground before him, most decidedly liking what he saw, and extending a hand to her. "You can call me Bucky."

This seemed to only shock her further, and she whipped her head up to face him astonishingly fast, gray eyes wide and questioning. Despite the situation, Bucky couldn't help but get momentarily lost in the beautiful eyes of the beautiful girl that was staring up at him in a way that he didn't understand. Forcing himself to break the unsettling gaze of the strange girl, he allowed his eyes to roam over her figure in what he somewhat hopped was a discrete way. He ran his eyes up from the bottom of her heeled feet that were curled to her side, noting her long legs that looked even longer thanks to the criminally short, curve-hugging brown skirt that was a few inches short of meeting her knees, up to the tight, light pink bloused that she wore that rather complimented a _certain_ feature of her body that Bucky was always a fan of, to the loose auburn curls that reached nearly to her elbows, finally resting once again on the surprised, lightly freckled face of the woman who only continued to look at him as if she had seen a ghost, ignoring his silent offer to help her to her feet.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably on his feet, not sure what to do. He didn't want to just leave her here, but he really needed to check on Steve, who he could still hear quietly moaning at the entry to the alley. "Hey," he spoke softly, hoping not to further traumatize her. "Doll, you alright?"

The woman blinked up at him, finally seeming to focus on his face, rather than drifting off who knows where, and then averted her eyes to his still-extended hand. He heard her softly clear her throat, before chocking out a quiet "yeah" and finally grasping his hand.

Bucky sighed quietly in relief before yanking on her hand to help her up. Unfortunately, he didn't realize that she had already started to pull on his hand herself, so what he thought would be a good amount of force, quickly turned out to be too much, succeeding in pulling her to her feet, but accidentally sending her stumbling into his arms as well.

The woman quickly tried to right herself, placing a small, but firm hand on his chest to push away and look up at his grinning face. And this time when she gave him an odd look and her face flushed a pretty shade of pink, Bucky knew _exactly_ what she was thinking. She wasn't the first to look at him that way, and he was sure she wouldn't be the last, but he enjoyed it immensely all the same.

* * *

Vivian quickly shook her head and took a couple steps back from Bucky, removing her hand from his chest and releasing her tight grip on his right arm. His smile only grew as he continued to look down at her, and curious as to what was running through his mind, Vivian took a quick peek.

 _And_ immediately allowed his thoughts to return to background noise, blushing impossibly harder at the lude thought that had been running through his mind. Not only had he caught her checking him out, he had been doing plenty of looking of his own and apparently liked what he saw. Though Vivian would normally be flattered (and she still kind of was), she was primarily mortified that he _knew_ she found him attractive, and therefore probably thought she was just another pretty girl that he could put under his spell (though she had a feeling that might actually turn out to be true), as well as terrified because she _definitely_ should not be associating with the Winter Soldier in his past in any way, shape, or form and she really shouldn't find him as attractive as she did.

But could you _really_ blame her?

Vivian cleared her suddenly tight throat again, raked a hand through her tangled auburn locks, and hesitantly said, "Thanks, uh… for you know, saving me and stuff."

Bucky only furrowed his brows slightly and flashed her a bemused grin. Vivian suppressed a groan, realizing she probably didn't sound anything like a girl from this century. But if Bucky thought so (and Vivian was too afraid and embarrassed to confirm), he didn't mention it, only asking with what seemed to be genuine concern, "Are you hurt?"

Maybe he thought she had a concussion.

Vivian allowed herself to stare at him for only a moment longer before shaking her head and looking over at the hunched over form a few feet away from them. "No, I think he got the worst of it."

Bucky sighed heavily and followed her gaze, saying, "Yeah. He does that."

Vivian shot him a confused look, before striding over to the injured man. Did Bucky know him?

It was as Vivian placed her dainty hand on the man's even daintier shoulder that she realized just how stupid she was and just _who this was_ as he turned his pale face up to peer at her, blue eyes pained but kind.

Vivian couldn't contain the gasp that escaped her and exclaiming, "Oh my god! You're—"

But she quickly caught herself from making an embarrassing mistake and was even more grateful when Bucky decided to finish her sentence for her. "An idiot."

Steve rolled his eyes good naturedly, and with Vivian on his right and Bucky on his left, he managed to stand up. "I had him on the ropes."

Bucky rolled his eyes right back and quipped, "You always do, punk."

Vivian just stared at them both, more than a little awe-struck. Here she was, in 1943 listening to Captain America and the Winter Soldier bicker like an old married couple. And Steve was so _small_ and Vivian had an overwhelming urge to take him into her arms and hold him tight and protect him from the world, but she had a feeling that would only embarrass Steve immensely, especially since he was so short that with Vivian in her one inch heels, his face would likely end up right in her chest. She tried not to snicker at the thought.

Together, Bucky and Vivian walked Steve out of the alley and back onto the street, finding a bench for all three of them to sit down at. Vivian, having some level of experience of tending to the wounded thanks to her few years spent with the X-Men, quickly started looking Steve over for injuries. She grazed her hand over his right cheek where a bruise was rapidly starting to form but moved on when he flinched. Not sure where else to look, she peeked inside his mind to try to locate what was hurting him so much, greatly concerned by the wheezing sounds he was making.

Discovering that his chest and abdomen seemed to be hurting him the most, she gently asked "Do you think your ribs could be broken?"

Steve merely shook his head, still struggling to gain his breath, making Vivian furrow her brows in confusion and concern.

Bucky, who had been watching her tend to his friend with a quiet, appraising eye, elaborated for him. "He's got asthma. Should be fine in a few minutes if we just sit her for a while." He gave Steve a sideways glance and grinned at him, nudging his arm slightly. "This ain't the worst he's had."

Vivian chuckled at that. "Oh, I'm sure. That was really brave of you, to help me."

Steve shook his head a bit sadly, not meeting her eyes. "I didn't. He did," he mumbled tossing his head in Bucky's direction.

She _tisked_ lightly in response. "Well, yeah, he finished it. But you definitely bought me some time. Who knows what he would have done to me if you hadn't come first?"

Steve's face became impossibly redder, and he seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment. Bucky was actually extremely grateful to the girl sitting next to his best friend for being so nice to Steve and talking up his contribution. He knew it meant the world to Steve, and he had never heard a girl speak so compassionately to Steve before, especially when he was like this.

After a moment more of Vivian's silent fussing, Steve added, "You had some pretty good moves back there."

Vivian blushed at his praise, and tried to think of an appropriate response that wasn't _oh yeah, I was trained by an elite group of mutants who occasionally save the world without anyone knowing we exist_. _Oh, and I'm a mutant too! I can read your mind and make you do the chicken dance if I wanted, but I totally promise I won't_. So she said, "Oh, uh, thanks. That was nothing really. I grew up with brothers…"

Bucky decided to weigh in on the conversation, having not seen the little redhead fight back, but he wasn't all that surprised to hear based on the stance he had seen her in and the way she was looking at her attacker before he interrupted. "Pretty impressive though. You really stood your ground, even though he was easily twice your size. Took some guts."

Vivian shrugged bashfully, completely unused to such praise, and said "Well, it's not like I _wanted_ to get my ass kicked."

Bucky barked out a laugh and Steve looked at her, scandalized, as if she had just told him her favorite sex position. Then she remembered that she was a woman in the 1940s, and what she had just said was probably considered very improper. She suppressed a frustrating groan, realizing for about the 100th time that day that she was _not_ cut out for spy work during a time where she couldn't wear jeans and curse like the sailor she was at heart.

Bucky, still grinning amusedly at her, asked, "Well, as the guy who _saved_ you from getting your ass kicked, do I get to know your name?"

Vivian couldn't help but giggle at the way Steve turned his still-wide, mortified eyes on his best friend and gave his shoulder a rough shove. "Vivian Grant," she said, holding out a hand for him to shake.

"Well, I'm Bucky Barnes and this is Steve Rogers," he introduced, nudging Steve who gave her a small wave when he said his name. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Vivian. Though I wish it were under different circumstances," he replied easily, taking her hand in his larger one and shaking it, giving her a look that she could only describe as _filthy_. She was sorely tempted to peek into his mind and see exactly what circumstances he was referring to, but she knew that that was a road that was better left untraveled.

Here she was, an X-Man trained to take out bad guys and protect the innocent, and she had just been saved from a drunk human by the Winter Soldier, who was now unashamedly flirting with her and _she kind of liked it_.

This was _not_ how this mission was supposed to be going, and Vivian realized she needed to get back on track sooner rather than later.

So, with one last, pretty smile thrown both of their ways, Vivian began to make her retreat. "Well, fellas, it sure was swell to meet you. Thanks again for all your help."

And with that, she was bounding up and off of the bench, preparing to make a hasty getaway before she somehow found herself following the Winter Soldier home and forcing herself on him (she really did have poor self-control). However, her retreat was thwarted by her now bum left leg and she stumbled as soon as she attempted to stand properly, and she likely would have fallen if Bucky hadn't suddenly been there, both hands on her shoulders and looking at her with great concern. "You okay there doll?"

Vivian groaned at her poor luck (honestly, how cliché could this get?), but Bucky apparently took it for one of pain and was quickly spinning her around and making her sit back down on the bench, squatting in front of her.

"What hurts?" he demanded, blue eyes boring into hers intently.

Vivian shook her head adamantly, saying "Nothing, sorry. Just tripped."

Her brilliant excuse was unfortunately ruined by Captain America himself, who decided to pipe up at that moment. "He threw her into the wall pretty hard. And the dumpster. And I think I saw him smash your leg, right?"

Vivian shot him a glare at his betrayal, but quickly relented when he visibly flinched. He was only concerned for her after all. But her rudeness was abruptly forgotten when she looked back down at Bucky, who was gazing up at her with quiet fury in his beautiful eyes. She swallowed thickly and shifted nervously, not sure what to say.

So Bucky broke the silence. "Which leg?"

Vivian mumbled that it was her left, and then he was immediately examining it with gentle hands. He continued to look at it for a moment, moving it and prodding it here and there, before he said, "Seems like it's just gonna be bruised, but it'll probably hurt to walk. Did anything else get hurt?"

Vivian held eye contact with him a moment longer, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth in contemplation. She wanted to tell him no, that she was fine, but with the way he was looking at her and the thought that Steve would probably rat her out anyway, she sighed heavily and relented. "Throat's a little sore. Guy had a pretty solid grip. Hands and knees are a little scuffed. And I hit my head on the wall… and the dumpster." And Bucky's incredulous look, she hastily added, "But I'm fine!"

Blue eyes rolled at her, and he was shaking his head. "Turn around," he demanded, leaving no room for argument.

Vivian complied, but was a little surprised by his forcefulness. From what she read, James Buchannan Barnes was supposed to be an easy-going flirt. And a flirt he was, but she hadn't seen much that could be considered easy-going. But maybe that was just her.

She quickly forgot her inner musings, however, when he began to prod lightly at the base of her skull and she hissed in pain. "Tender?" his rough voice questioned, right next to her ear, and she tried to suppress the shiver that wanted to run down her spine. She nodded.

And with that, he seemed to be done with his assessment of her, standing and turning her back around to face him. "Okay, well, you could have a concussion, so you should probably see a doctor. You should also try to clean up your cuts."

Vivian offered him a tired smile. "Didn't know you were a doctor, Mr. Barnes," she teased lightly, attempting to get to her feet again.

Bucky grabbed one of her arms to help her (rather unnecessarily, she might add), and Steve rushed out of his seat, apparently much better now that he had a chance to rest, and grabbed her other one. "Well, don't you two know how to treat a lady?"

Steve, blushing furiously once again, said, "We can help you back to our apartment if you want. Buck's pretty good at taking care of things like that."

Vivian raised a slender eye brow at him in wonder. "You're asking me back to your place? We've only just met Steve. What kind of girl you think I am?"

Steve immediately blushed three shades darker and started stammering out an apology when Vivian laughed. "Calm down, Steve. I'm only teasing."

Bucky, also laughing rather heartily at his best friend's embarrassment as well as Vivian's torment, offered, "He's right though. You can do that if you'd rather not go to a doctor."

Vivian considered it for all of two seconds before quickly making up her mind once she realized that the idea appealed to her a little _too_ much. "No thanks, fellas. I'm actually supposed to meet my friends in…" she hesitated as she realized she had no idea what time it was, and grabbed Bucky's left wrist, bringing it up to her eye level to examine the watch, only to exclaim "five minutes!"

At her panicked expression, Bucky placed what was supposed to be a calming hand on her shoulder; it wasn't, of course, but Vivian couldn't fault him as he had no way of knowing that every time he touched her, her heart would race. "Where are you meeting them? We'll walk ya there, just to make sure you're alright."

She hesitated only a moment before nodding her consent and giving them the name of the diner. Bucky's eyes glinted knowingly and he told her that he knew it, and then his hand disappeared from her shoulder and he and Steve were leading her towards the diner.

Vivian was still having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that she was currently engaged in easy conversation with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, two men who had no idea that they would still be alive and _young_ in 70 years' time, not to mention all of the horrible things that would happen to them along the way. She felt a small pang of guilt at the thought, feeling the need to warn them somehow. But she wasn't stupid, and this wasn't her first mission. She knew that she couldn't do that.

Vivian had been on a few missions during her time as a somewhat official member of the X-Men, and she had never once thought about purposefully doing something to jeopardize a mission before. Normally, she was rational and calculated with all of the decisions that she made while on a mission, but she had been caught on an off day, and now here she was, joking with Captain America and flirting with the Winter Soldier, thinking about drastically changing the future and thus royally fucking up her mission by telling them what lay ahead.

She was ridiculous.

Her internal berating of herself was interrupted though, when they finally arrived at the designated diner, Bucky opening the door for her before both he and Steve followed her inside. She quickly made eye contact with Kitty, who was giving her a somewhat confused glare that made Vivian swallow nervously, and Cassidy, who was waving excitedly at her.

Bucky chuckled to her right. "Guess that's them?"

Vivian sighed heavily and muttered, "Unfortunately." She then turned to face them, offering them what she hoped was a friendly smile and extending her hand to Steve first. "Thanks again for your help. It was lovely meeting you."

Steve shook her hand with a slight blush and a muttered, "You're welcome."

Then she was turning to Bucky, hesitating slightly before offering him her hand as well, saying, "And thanks to you too, stud. That was one helluva punch."

Bucky cocked his head to the side in momentary confusion before shaking it off and sending her his usual, flirty grin. "No problem. Glad to put my boxing skills to use outside of the ring for once." Then he was grasping her hand and rather than shake as she expected him to, he brought it up to his lips to place a light kiss on it, holding eye contact the whole time. Vivian tried to ignore the way she suddenly couldn't breathe, but found that to be difficult. "Now, don't forget to get your head checked out," he reminded her as he dropped her hand, voice a little lower than usual.

Vivian swallowed thickly and nodded her head a little too frantically to be casual. "You bet. Will do."

And then she was turning away from them, walking over to her friends and offering them one last look and a wave over her shoulder before they left the restaurant.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she sat down in the booth opposite her two friends, ignoring the sudden feeling of disappointment at their departure.

However, her relief was short lived.

" _What did you do_?" Kitty hissed at her, clearly having recognized her companions and fearing the worst.

"And what happened to your face?" Cassidy added, apparently oblivious to the situation.

Vivian groaned loudly and laid her head on the table in exasperation. "I don't even know. Please tell me you guys found Erskine?"

Kitty considered pestering Vivian for more details, but decided to let it go for then. "Not him. But we found a couple files that were being held at an office he has in town."

Vivian peeked up at her friend, raising an eyebrow in question. "And?"

Kitty sighed and Cassidy grinned excitedly. "We need to meet with the professor and regroup. It's not looking good."

Vivian allowed her head to flop back onto the table and let out another whine. It seemed today was only getting worse and worse.

* * *

Though Bucky expected to be disappointed in his missed opportunity to spend an evening with Dot, especially when the diner he had led Vivian to had been the one she worked at, and he had actually seen that she was still there and that if he had so wanted, he could have hastily said goodbye to Vivian and still caught her.

But he hadn't, and he didn't. And he had a feeling that it had something to do with the woman with the pretty gray eyes and brash words that wouldn't leave his mind.

"You look pretty pleased," Steve noted as they walked back to their apartment, staring up at his friend with a knowing smile.

"I am," Bucky agreed, smile only widening. "Did you _see_ her, Steve?"

Steve laughed. "I did. But she doesn't seem like your normal type."

Bucky's eyebrows shot up his forehead comically. "What part of her _isn't_ my type? The red hair, the long legs, her—"

"Alright, alright. I get it," Steve interrupted, rolling his eyes. "She's pretty cute. But it's not the looks that I'm talking about."

That made Bucky furrow his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" Steve started, staring ahead in slight confusion. "She just seemed… odd. The usual girls you go for are pretty, y'know…"

It was Bucky's turn to roll his eyes. "No, Steve, I don't."

"They're _like you_ ," Steve tried to explain with a huff. "They flirt and batt their eyes and would have jumped at the chance to go back to our place for you to patch 'em up."

"Thanks for that, by the way," Bucky interjected with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah. All I'm saying is that there was something off about her. I mean, did you see her clothes," Steve lowered his voice and blushed, as if he were embarrassed that _he_ had. "And the way she talked. And you should have _seen_ her knock this guy over. Swiped his legs right out from under him! And then she ran over to help _me_ before he got back up and threw her back. I'm pretty sure that she would have been fine if you hadn't showed up, honestly." At Bucky's blank, expectant look, Steve continued with a sigh. "Don't get me wrong. I think she was sweet. And she'd be a nice change from the usual sort you bring around. But something about her just makes me feel like she's, I dunno… _out of place_ ," he finished lamely, looking up at Bucky to see if he understood.

But Bucky was only grinning again. "You're right, Steve. I've _never_ met a dame like that before. I think that's what I like about her."

With the almost wistful way that Bucky was looking of into the distance, Steve couldn't help but laugh. "You're serous?"

Bucky stopped walking and turned to face him with an offended expression. "'Course I am."

Steve shook his head, and sighed. "You know what you're gonna do."

"No," Bucky rolled his eyes. "Please tell me _exactly_ what I'm gonna do."

"You're going to track her down, talk her into bed, and then leave. It's what you _always_ do." When Bucky opened his mouth to protest, Steve plowed on. "And you're leaving in, what? A month? It's not like you can do anything serious anyway. And I just don't think she's the type."

Bucky gave Steve one last, withering, though half-hearted glare before turning around and continuing on his way. "Well, that's where you're wrong Steve."

Steve huffed, rushing to catch up with Bucky's long strides. "Which part?"

"All of it," Bucky replied, as if it were obvious. "I'm gonna marry that girl one day. Just wait," he promised, throwing Steve a wide grin. And though he was joking, he did allow himself just one second to consider what a future where that were the truth would hold, and he wished that it could happen. If for no other reason than to spite Steve.

But he knew Steve was right. He was leaving in a month to train to fight in a war that had already killed hundreds of thousands of men. This wasn't the time to do serious, especially when he never had before in his 26 years of life.

But there was surely no harm in hopping that he would have one more chance to see her, was there?

 **A/N: So, what did you guys think? A lot more Bucky this chapter, so that's always good! I'm still on the fence on whether I should continue this, so any input one way or the other would be greatly appreciated! I don't want to write something that no one has interest in when I can focus on my other BuckyxOC story. So just let me know.**

 **Thanks to those who followed and favorited last chapter. And a special shout out to NoVacancyMind and BatmanSkittles17 for reviewing. You guys are awesome!**


	3. Rule 3: Don't Sleep with the Enemy

Vivian breathed a sigh of relief once she had stepped through the swirling purple portal that took her back to her time, in the land of smartphones, Starbucks, and Netflix where she belonged.

Unfortunately, she had a feeling that it would be short-lived.

"Gah," Kitty groaned, stumbling out of the portal behind Vivian, clutching her stomach. "I _hate_ that feeling."

Vivian offered her a weak smile back as her own nausea surged and her head throbbed. "What feeling? You mean the one where you feel like you just experienced five consecutive swirlies?"

Kitty nodded in agreement before pausing and tilting her head, eying her friend in confusion. "Do you actually know what that feels like?"

Vivian was saved from responding when Cassidy came strolling out of her portal, bright smile plastered on her face as usual.

"Now how is that fair?" Kitty grumbled in annoyance as they collectively moved towards the mansion. Vivian snorted in agreement.

Cassidy, who was already several feet ahead of the two girls who were dragging their feet behind her, turned around, skipping backwards as she called out, "Sure it is. It's not like _you_ feel sick when you walk through walls, or Viv gets nauseous when she reads people's minds. Well… I suppose that's not always true," she snickered.

Vivian rolled her eyes. "You can't tell when I'm in your head though, Cass. Not if I don't want you to."

"Well, yeah, but the _thought_ of you in my head makes me sick. So same thing."

"The feeling is mutual. I try to steer clear."

Cassidy giggled at that before turning back around and climbing up the large, stone stairs to their home. "That's probably for the best."

Kitty glanced over at her redheaded friend and asked lowly enough that Cassidy wouldn't hear, "Sometimes I wonder if you just _tell_ us that you stay out of our heads to make us feel better, and you actually _do_ hear literally everything that goes on here. Most of the telepaths that we come across say that they can't help but overhear everything, _including_ the professor. But it's smart if you don't; that way everyone isn't so uncomfortable around you."

Vivian shrugged. "I may downplay how much I hear, but it's not a lie. Telepaths like Professor X and Jean are just _way_ more powerful than me, and their mutations are different. I guess I'm just lucky. And that means _you're_ lucky," she replied, shooting her petite friend an amused grin. She knew that her mutation made people uncomfortable, which she understood. So usually this conversation was more awkward and meet with hostility; Kitty was different though. She wasn't accusatory, just curious; and she approached it in her normal, joking attitude. Vivian appreciated that.

Kitty scoffed. "Yeah, that's what I'd say too. But I bet you know what I ate for breakfast and which of the X-Men I fantasize about," she quipped.

Vivian stopped at the door that Cassidy had just ran through and turned her head back to face Kitty, gray eyes impassive as she deadpanned, "Well, I do now."

Kitty grinned nervously and followed Vivian inside. "You won't tell him, right?"

"Your dirty secret's safe with me, Shadow Cat."

Within a few minutes they had reached the professor's office, where he was waiting for them with apprehension clear on his face. But at their arrival, a seemingly cheerful smile was sent their way. "Ah, ladies. I see you've made it back safely. How did your trip go?"

Vivian sighed heavily before plopping down in one of the seats arranged in front of the large desk. "Could have gone better."

The professor chuckled as Vivian projected her rather eventful experience in 1943 to him. "Ah, I see. Well, I suppose it is a good thing that your run-in doesn't appear to have affected anything in the present. But," Xavier continued, a frown now tugging at his previously upturned lips as he cautioned, "you will have to be much more careful in the future—well, in a manner of speaking. I suppose it really is the _past_."

It was Vivian's turn to frown. "So we _will_ have to go back. Fantastic."

Professor Xavier nodded sympathetically. "If what Miss Pryde is frantically thinking at this moment is true, I am afraid that you will."

"It is," Kitty confirmed. "It looks like Hydra, more specifically Schmidt, has more on mutants than we originally thought. Enough for concern."

"That is what I was afraid of. What did you find?"

"A file. Well, a few, actually. Cassidy and I followed a few guys that were clearly military personnel into this underground lab that was hidden in a shop while Vivian was off flirting with a 97 year old assassin."

"Well," Vivian interjected hurriedly, "in my defense, he was wasn't ancient _or_ a murder bot at the time. Also, you can't deny that he was pretty hot."

Cassidy hummed in agreement, but Kitty continued on as if Vivian hadn't spoken. "Luckily, the place was pretty dead and we were able to find a small office that looked like it belonged to Erskine. And, there was a filing cabinet that was locked, so we decided to take a look. Most of the files had the normal sciencey stuff that I didn't understand inside—formulas and notes for the serum, I assume. But there was a whole drawer dedicated to the things that he had seen or experimented on during his time being held by HYDRA. Towards the back of those files is where it started to get weird."

" _Mutant_ weird," Cassidy clarified, leaning forward in her chair excitedly.

"What exactly did you find?" Professor Xavier pressed.

"A couple files that were in German. I couldn't read them, but there were pictures, and well… you kind of get the idea."

Vivian grimaced, having taken a peek into Kitty's mind in order to see for herself what her friend had found. She did indeed get the idea—Schmidt or an associate of his were experimenting on mutants, possibly even using them to help create the serum. "So someone clearly knows that mutants exist. Why not publicize it?"

"It didn't benefit him to do so," the professor replied in his quietly thoughtful way. "It's likely that only a close circle in Hydra knew what was going on, and it made the most sense to study the mutants quietly. No need to make any of their competitors aware of their existence."

"But how _did_ they find them Professor?" Kitty inquired, a deep frown set on her face. No one liked the implications of even the little evidence they had seen. "It's been over half a century since then and mutants are still living in the shadows. It doesn't make sense."

"Our secrecy has come with a price, Kitty. We have actively tried to remain hidden away from society, for our protection and theirs. Men like Johann Schmidt were helped by mutants who sought more power. If the man behind the experiments is the same who I know to have held an old friend captive long ago, it was Dr. Klaus Schmidt."

"Well that won't get confusing," Vivian muttered dryly. As she expected, the professor ignored her.

"What Dr. Erskine had was likely minuscule compared to the files that Schmidt has in Hydra. And that means that if those files survived the war, and Hydra still has them today—"

"Then Natasha Romanoff just leaked them on the internet and unknowingly exposed mutants," Vivian finished, gray eyes darkening at the thought.

"Exactly, Miss Grant. Which is precisely why you need to go back."

Kitty turned on the professor with wide eyes. "You want us to go back and _steal_ the files from a Hydra base."

"Cool!" Cassidy chimed in.

"Aren't you afraid of the effects that may have on the timeline?" Vivian asked, brow furrowed. She certainly didn't want to go back to 1943. If last time was any indication, she wasn't cut out for life in the 40's, and she didn't have much experience in espionage, which she assumed would be necessary for this mission. And if she had to worry about messing up the past every second of the day for an extended period of time, she had a feeling she would go insane.

"It is a calculated risk," Xavier responded, not sounding as sure as he normally did, but he held a conviction in his eyes that Vivian didn't question. "The impact that these files will have if they come to light now, when the world is already so afraid, could be… catastrophic. But we will take every precaution to ensure that the timeline does not experience any unnecessary changes."

"Because that could be even _more_ catastrophic," Kitty commented bitterly.

"Yes," the professor acknowledged. "It could be. Which is why I will only be sending Vivian back."

Vivian chocked on nothing, shooting forward in her seat with wide eyes trained on the professor in frightened surprise. " _Me?_ Alone? _Why_?" she stuttered out. The other girls looked at her in concern, shock evident on their faces as well.

"One person sent 70 years into the past is much less likely to make a large impact than three of you. Especially if it's you Vivian. You have a minor in history and are well versed in the history of World War II, particularly when it comes to Captain America and the Howling Commandoes." Vivian glared at the professor and tried to fight a blush at being called out like that. It was hardly her fault she was something of a Captain America fangirl. He, however, elected to ignore her ire. "Not to mention that your mutation makes you more adept at blending into an unknown place and time. Use it to your advantage to say the right thing, know what you can and can't do, get you the places you need to go… I'm sorry, Ms. Grant. I know this isn't an ideal situation, but you are our best shot at recovering those files. But you may have to be gone for… awhile."

Vivian swallowed thickly, the nauseous feeling that had subsided a few minutes ago returning. She was still trying to formulate a response when Kitty stepped in and objected for her. "Professor, I don't think this is the best idea. If Vivian got hurt in 1943, we _can't_ help her. It's a dangerous time to be alone, especially if you're a woman. I may not have a degree in history or an obsession with our Star Spangled Savior—"

"Obsession is a bit harsh," Vivian muttered, eyes downcast in embarrassment.

"But I know that much," Kitty continued, undeterred. "And to get those files, she'll have to go into enemy territory. _German_ territory. During World War II! How is she supposed know where the bases are? How is she supposed to get there?"

"And how am I supposed to _survive_?" Vivian interjected, Kitty's fears and concern for her fueling her own discomfort with the professor's rather unexpected plan. "Johann Schmidt is the _Red Skull_. Even Captain America had trouble defeating him… like, ended up frozen in ice for nearly seven decades trouble. And the other Schmidt? He's clearly very powerful if he could keep _Magneto_ locked up—and before you say anything, it was obvious even without reading your mind to know that he was the 'friend' you were talking about. I'm just a telepath, and not even a powerful one at that. It'll be hard enough to accomplish a mission like this without ruining the timeline. Let alone making it back alive."

Professor Xavier sighed heavily at the completion of his students' rants, rubbing a hand across his face. "I understand your concerns. And believe me girls, I wouldn't ask you to do this if I had another choice. But you are the only one I can trust to do this, Vivian. You are the most capable, and despite your fears, I have faith that you will be able to accomplish it and return to us safely."

"But _how_?" Vivian asked softly in despair, resting her head in her hands. There was no longer any need to argue. She knew that the moment the great Charles Xavier asked her to do something this important, she would comply, regardless of her fears. He was far from perfect, but he was the one person who showed her compassion after she was rejected by her parents and he was the one who brought her to the school where she would meet all of her wonderful friends and find the only family she needed as well as her place in the world. She couldn't let him down, but she needed to know how he expected her to pull this off. "I'll have no money, no place to live, no connections to Erskine or the military that can get me to any HYDRA facilities. And Kitty's right. I'm a woman. That alone will make it nearly impossible for me to make those connections and gain trust."

"You're right," Xavier conceded, meeting Vivian's stormy gray eyes when she looked up at him. "It won't be easy. But that's why it has to be _you_. I know you don't like using your gift to take advantage of others after… well, you know, of course. But it will be necessary for you to succeed. You can convince Erskine to give you a job, you can use it to get it wherever you need to go, to keep yourself out of trouble and to protect yourself if you can't. I know this is a lot to ask of you, and I wouldn't if we had a better option. But we don't. Vivian, you're our only hope," he told her sincerely, but Vivian caught the corner of his lip twitch ever so slightly.

"That's unfair," Vivian moaned, letting her head fall against the back of the chair. "You can't quote _Star Wars_ at me to get me to do your bidding. I mean, it's effective. I'll do it. But that was a low blow."

The professor chuckled sadly, but smiled at Vivian affectionately. "Like I said, I know this is a large, unappealing, and frankly, dangerous request to make of you. I must use every weapon in my arsenal."

Vivian returned his smile with only a little effort. "Okay. So how long will I be there? A month or two?"

"Roughly a year."

For a moment, Vivian did nothing but blink in response, mouth slightly agape. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"You will have to stay until the beginning of 1945, after Captain Rogers crashes the Valkyrie and Hydra falls—or so it appeared anyway. It's the only way to make sure that you got everything before Hydra takes it all and hides away in SHIELD for the next several years."

Vivian was now leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees and her fingers steepled with her head resting on them as she inspected the professor with narrowed eyes. Xavier meet her steely gaze with expressionless eyes, waiting for her to respond. It was a few moments before she did. "A whole year. That's a lot of missed episodes of _Parks and Recreation_."

" _That's_ what you have to say?" Kitty exclaimed, rounding on her friend with wide eyes. "This is madness!"

"On the brightside," Cassidy spoke up helpfully, smile only slightly less enthusiastic than usual, "You'll come back the same day that you left. So you won't _really_ be missing anything. It'll just be a long hiatus."

"I truly am sorry, Vivian. I wish that there was a better way," Xavier assured her, and if she doubted his sincerity for a second, one look inside his mind told her that it was true. It didn't do much to lessen her misery though.

"So, that's the plan then? Cassidy sends me back to May of 1943 and she comes back to get me in the beginning of 1945? Sounds more like two years to me," she responded, trying to hide just how scared she truly was.

"Let's compromise and say a year and a half."

Vivian took a deep breath. She had faced a lot during her few years spent as an X-Men, and even more during the near decade she spent as Xavier's student; but what he was asking her to do, spend nearly two years alone in a strange time and place… it may be more than she could handle. She had never had to use her telepathy for extended amounts of time or rely on it to convince some of the world's brightest minds to get her where she needed to and to help her survive if need be. She wasn't entirely confident in her abilities, if she was being honest. But she knew that she would have to try.

"When do I leave?"

* * *

"I still can't believe that you're _actually_ doing this."

Vivian hummed in agreement, but choose not to respond to Kitty's worrying. They were standing on the lawn of the school once again. And once again, Vivian was exhausted from a long night of research and little sleep. She had wanted to be more prepared than she was last time, researching life in the 40s (slang, fashion, etc.) and refreshing herself on everything WWII, expanding outside of Captain America and the Howling Commandos and into specific battles to know what she needed to be careful of affecting. She even looked into some of the leaked files to find what she could on the Hydra bases that were around during that time. It was a lot of information, but she knew it was all incredibly important if she wanted to succeed in her mission. She had spent the better part of the morning worrying herself sick over it though, and now she was waiting with Kitty for Cassidy and the professor to show up before she left for approximately a year and a half. It was a lot to process at nine in the morning when one was functioning on little to no sleep, so Vivian was unfortunately not in the mood for conversation.

"Viv… Please just be careful, okay? I know you're smart and resourceful and you should be fine. But that doesn't mean that I won't worry about you. Despite how intelligent you may be, you do a lot of dumb shit and I won't be there to look out for you."

Vivian turned to look at her friend, giving her a crooked smile in response to the joking mask that Kitty was using to barely conceal her deep concern for Vivian's wellbeing. "Well, I can't promise you that I won't do anything that classifies as 'dumb shit,' because we both know that that's not true. But I will do my best to not die, at least."

Kitty returned her smile weakly, but didn't get the chance to reply when the professor and Cassidy showed up.

"Are you ready, Ms. Grant?" Professor Xavier asked her, offering her a friendly smile in response to her slightly distressed look at his question.

"To play spy in the 40's with Hydra? As I'll ever be."

"Excellent," the professor responded. "May I speak to you in private briefly before you depart? I'd like to offer some last minute advice."

"Sure," Vivian said with a shrug, exchanging a quick glance with Kitty before walking after the professor, who was currently navigating his chair away from Cassidy and Kitty.

"What is it?" she asked once they came to a stop.

The professor swiveled around to face her, taking a measured look before replying. "I couldn't help but notice that you had a… run-in with a couple of historical figures."

"Ah," Vivian nodded in understanding. "That."

"Yes," Xavier said, attempting to suppress his amused grin. "Your meeting doesn't appear to have affected the timeline, but I would caution against any further interaction. We both know that where you're going, they have a rather… dark future that awaits them. I wouldn't want anything to happen that would jeopardize your mission."

Vivian's eyebrows shot up in surprise and she looked down at the professor in offense. "You think that I would do that? Warn them that their lives are about to become an icy hell and completely alter the future—our present. I've _never_ done anything to risk a mission before. Why would I start now?"

"I'm not trying to imply that I don't trust you," the professor quickly backtracked, having not meant to offend her. "I know you would never purposefully do anything so damaging. But I do know that you are an empathetic and caring girl, and based on your thoughts, those boys have already began to worm their way into your heart." At Vivian's scandalized look, Xavier chuckled and amended, "I'm not saying you're in love with them. Just that you appear to care for them, and you know very well what they will have to experience in their futures. That's a heavy burden to bear, to keep that from them. One I don't wish for you to endure."

Vivian nodded slowly, tucking a loose strand of her auburn hair behind her ear before responding. "Okay. So, go to 1943, find Dr. Erskine and his files, find all of the other files that Hydra has, and destroy them. Also, don't get caught, don't irrevocably screw up the timeline, don't die, and avoid the prepubescent Captain America and his charming, future-psychotic assassin best friend. Got it. No problem."

"I do admire your confidence," Xavier remarked with a crooked grin. "Shall we go then?"

Vivian returned his smile feebly and turned to make her way back to her waiting friends. She tried to ignore the painful way that her heart clenched at the sight of them chatting amiably, knowing that it would be the last time she saw them for the next year and a half at least. And that's if she ever got to see them again at all. She would miss them.

"You'll take good care of everyone?" She asked Kitty as she approached, nudging her shoulder playfully.

Kitty snorted in response. "I'll try my best. But you know how it is. They're a handful."

"Oh definitely!" Cassidy agreed, and Vivian fought the urge to roll her eyes, settling for an affectionate smile. Cassidy was one of the students who needed the most supervision with her carefree attitude and rather temperamental mutation.

"I'm counting on it," she said with a somewhat forced chuckle. She gave them each one last hug before she stepped back behind Cassidy and waited for her to create the portal that would send her back in time once again.

"Are you ready?" Xavier asked once more as he came to a stop next to her.

Vivian looked down at what she was wearing, noting that this dress fit much better than the last. It was red and reached her knees with a high collar that still allowed a small amount of (tasteful) cleavage to peek out. Her long auburn hair was curled and pinned up on the right side of her head. She looked every bit of the professional 1940's woman that she needed to play. With a heavy sigh and one last tug on the hem of her dress (a nervous habit), she nodded.

"Then good luck."

And with that, Cassidy waived her small, manicured hand in front of them, opening a large portal. "Whenever you're ready."

Vivian wasn't sure if she _was_ really ready, but she knew that she didn't have much choice in the matter. So with one last look at her friends, she strode to the portal and tried to look through it, as she always did, but found nothing but the swirling purple haze that was now the barrier between 2014 and 1943. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she took a cautious step forward.

* * *

Within seconds, she was stumbling out of the portal, catching herself on a nearby wall as she clutched her stomach and groaned. Time travel was really killer on one's stomach, and even worse on the head.

Vivian took a hesitant glance up at her surrounding as the portal, and her only way in or out of this place for the next year and a half, disappeared. She was well and truly stuck here now. And the first step of her plan was to find out where _here_ was.

Unfortunately, Cassidy's mutation wasn't always the most accurate, especially when she wasn't going through the portal as well. She could get a general time and a general place, but it was near impossible to get _exactly_ where you wanted to go.

So she stumbled out of the blessedly deserted alleyway that she had arrived in, her hand still pressed to the cool brick of the wall next to her. She looked out at the bustling city before her, flinching at the honking of the cars that passed by and just the general loudness of a city the size of New York. It would take some getting used to again, and with her headache she wasn't in the best state of mind to deal with it at the moment.

But she gritted her teeth and set out on her path to nowhere anyway. There was a lot to do, starting with tracking down the good doctor and convincing him to get her where she needed to go. And to do that, she first needed to figure out exactly when and where she was.

As she walked down the sidewalk, she swiped a newspaper off of a newsstand as she passed it, briefly entering the owner's mind to ensure that he didn't see her. After she rounded a corner and was then far enough away from the man she had just stolen from to be comfortable with stopping, she sat on a bench and began to read the paper.

It was May 6th of 1943, and if she had to guess, she would say that she had landed in Brooklyn as planned. That was good. Erskine should still be in town recruiting for project Rebirth for another month or so, but she knew that he made frequent trips between New York and Camp Leigh, which meant that she would have to wait him out. Ideally, she would be able to find someone at a recruiting office or maybe even that secret bunker that Kitty found who would be able to tell her when he would be back next. Or maybe she was lucky, and he was here right now and she could find him herself. The question was where to start.

She could begin looking for him now and get everything in order. But by the looks of it, evening was already quickly approaching. She may be better off finding a place to stay for the night and starting her search in the morning. She just wasn't overly fond of the idea of taking advantage of someone and either stealing from them, or finding herself in a hotel room for free. She also wasn't entirely confident in her abilities to remain undetected for extended periods of time with so many unknown factors, so stealing the money would be a safer option, but it was one she didn't like the thought of. But she couldn't stay out here in the open either. She didn't want a repeat of her last visit, and she didn't want to draw too much attention to herself either. She had very few options.

It was as she was contemplating the best way to proceed with her mission when the previously blue sky turned a stormy gray and it began to pour rather spectacularly on her. Turning her agitated eyes up to the sky, as if to accuse it of personally wronging her, she groaned.

"Fantastic." She kept her face upturned for a moment, allowing the water to splatter on her pale checks, the water running off of her lightly freckled nose in rivulets. Vivian actually liked the rain—she found it calming. But it wasn't long before her dress was soaked and clinging to her uncomfortably and she knew that she couldn't stay out here for long. It would seem she would be stealing from someone after all.

"Doll, is that you?"

Her previously closed eyes flashed open in an instant. There was no way…

But there was, it would appear. As Vivian turned her head to her left to see if the man that had called out to her was really who she thought it was, she found bright blue eyes glinting at her mischievously.

Ignoring the tight feeling in her chest that the look he was giving her created, she offered him a small smile. "Well, it's hard to say. I assume I'm not the only one you call that, so you'll have to be more specific."

He grinned widely at her and closed what distance remained between them, now standing in front of her. "As if I could forget a girl with a pretty name like Vivian," he replied, looking down at her with a charming smile. "Now what are you doing out here in the rain, sweetheart? I thought you weren't going to be in town for long?"

Vivian frowned, having forgotten that she told him that before he mentioned it. "Oh… yeah. Plans changed. Looks like I've gotta stay here for a while."

"My lucky day then," Bucky replied happily, but his smile quickly faded when he finally got a good look at her face. "Geez, I thought that these would have cleared up by now," he commented, crouching down in front of her. Vivian gulped and backed away slightly at his sudden proximity as he examined the large bruise that had formed on her right check and the faint, but distinct markings of a hand print on her delicate throat. She soon found herself involuntarily leaning into his touch though. She told herself it was for the warmth, but she wasn't so delusional as to not see the appeal of being so close to a man like Bucky Barnes, even without the biting chill that was reaching her through her soaked clothes.

"It's been about two weeks," he continued, breaking her out of her inner panic. Though his comment only fueled her anxiety. It had only been a day for her, but more time had passed than she thought since her last visit. At least to Bucky. "These shouldn't still be here. Unless you've been goin' 'round pickin' more fights?" The last part came out as teasing, but Vivian could see the way his blue eyes held a deeper concern for her. Chivalry certainly wasn't dead in the 40's it would appear. She tried not to scoff at the thought.

"Oh no," she chuckled lightly, remembering to play her part. "No more fights. Just a slow healer I'm afraid."

"And I take it you never did see that doctor?"

Vivian blinked in surprise at his question, taken aback by both his suddenly dark tone and the question itself. She had honestly forgotten that she had hit her head with everything that had been going on. "Oh, uh… would you believe me if I said yes?" she tried weakly, giving him an embarrassed smile.

Bucky shook his head with an exasperated sigh, but when he looked back up at her he was smiling softly. And then he was standing once again and offering her a hand. "Come on," was all he said.

Vivian looked at him with a raised brow and confused eyes, but took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet anyway. "Where are we going?"

"My place. You can dry off and then I'll take a look at your head," He answered, now leading her in the opposite direction that he had been heading, not letting go of her damp hand and not looking back at her.

"You, uh, you don't need to do that, really," she said, tugging gently on his hand to bring him to a stop. She knew that getting involved with the Winter Soldier in any capacity was a mistake, and the butterflies that inevitably found their way to her stomach with the way he was trying to take care of her and the authoritative way he spoke to her weren't a good sign. It wasn't something she usually tolerated, let alone found attractive, but then again, James Buchannan Barnes wasn't most men.

He turned to look at her and must have mistaken the apprehension in her expression for something else because he dropped her hand as if it had burned him. "I'm sorry, Viv," he quickly backtracked, raising his hands in defense. Her lips twitched ever so slightly into a smile at the nickname. "I didn't mean to make you think… er, I just want to help. I understand if you're… uncomfortable with that. I can just take you somewhere else to get taken care of if that's better."

Vivian's small smile turned into a deep frown. She didn't quite understand what he was getting at for a moment before she realized that he thought she was _afraid_ to go with him to his house. She had forgotten that they were currently in a time where girls typically didn't follow strange boys home after running into them only twice. And normally, Vivian probably _would_ be at least apprehensive at the thought of going back to a man's apartment for "help," even if they looked like a Greek god. But for some reason she found herself comfortable with Bucky and confident that he wouldn't hurt her. Maybe it was his connection with Captain America or his future status as a war hero, but she wasn't afraid of him. Besides, all it would take for her to know his true intentions would be a quick look at his thoughts, but she didn't think that it was necessary.

Vivian chewed on her bottom lip in thought. She knew she shouldn't spend any more time than necessary with Bucky as it could really jeopardize her mission. And it probably did look rather… uncouth for her to be going home with him in her state. But then again, she really didn't have anywhere else to go at the moment and what the hell did she even care what anyone thought of her? She didn't know them. And it would give her some time to think things over…

At her continued silence and the look of deep contemplation on her face, Bucky decided to give it one last try. "Steve will be there, if that makes you feel better."

And it did. Vivian knew that Captain America, no matter his current size, wouldn't let anything untoward happen to her—not that that was her main concern anyway. But she also knew that he had a good chance of leading her to Erskine if she couldn't find him on her own. The expression of worry quickly changed into one of determination as she once again snatched up Bucky's hand in a flash of courage that surprised both of them. "Lead the way."

* * *

"V-Vivian, is that you?"

Steve's surprised, timid voice was the first thing she heard as Bucky lead her into his apartment. She smiled brightly at him in response, something about the small boy, well, _man_ before her that made her feel safe and happy. It could be that she knew who he would soon become, or the fact that he looked so innocent and was so kind that it made her previously nonexistent mothering instincts present themselves. "Hey, Steve. I hope you don't mind me intruding."

"Oh! No, not at all. I-It's just… What are you doing here?" he finally managed to ask, face flaming as he looked between Vivian and Bucky with wide eyes.

The realization of what he must think quickly dawned on her. "Oh! Oh no, we're not… _I'm_ not—"

Bucky's amused chuckle and smooth voice saved her from further attempts to explain. "I found her sitting on a bench all by herself in the rain. Looks like she never went to the doctor, so I offered to check her out."

As Vivian blushed at both the clear double meaning of Bucky's statement and the general embarrassment of the situation, Steve sighed in quiet relief. "Oh. Okay. Yeah. I'll go grab some stuff."

As Steve bolted out of his chair and into what she assumed was the bathroom, Bucky led Vivian to sit on the couch. He frowned when he heard her teeth begin to chatter and saw that she was now hugging her self and shaking slightly. "You're soaked."

Vivian snorted at his statement. "You noticed?"

Bucky gave her his normal wicked grin in response. "Hard not to, Doll. Here, I'll see if Steve has something you can borrow while your clothes dry."

Vivian quickly started to protest when he rose to go talk to Steve in the bathroom. "Oh no!" she protested. "You really don't need to do that. I-I'm fine."

"Clearly," was all he said before he shot her one last amused grin and disappeared into the bathroom with Steve.

Vivian remained on the couch, still shivering due to the cool air that was coming in through the slightly opened window behind her. As she looked around, she noticed the apartment was sparsely furnished—the couch she was sitting on was situated against the back wall, a coffee table in front of her and a dilapidated chair to her left. The small kitchen was situated to the right of the entrance and contained a small, round table with a random assortment of four chairs in various states of decay. To the right of the kitchen was a single door, and across the apartment to her right there were two more, one of which Steve and Bucky had just entered. The apartment was fairly tidy, but the peeling cream-colored wallpaper and faint smell of cigarettes spoke of the place's old age and minimal upkeep between tenants. She wondered how long they had lived here.

She was insanely curious about the place that Steve and Bucky shared, wanting to know all that she could about their life before the war. But she restrained herself from perusing the apartment further, both out of a respect for their privacy and the desire to not look like a creep if she got caught. It was only a few more moments before Bucky reemerged from the bathroom with Steve, who quickly ducked into another room.

"He's gonna get you some clothes to change into. In the meantime, turn around and let me look at your head."

The way he said it left no room for argument, and the natural rebel in her made Vivian want to protest. But, she also found it difficult to tell him no. She also knew that she probably _should_ have her head looked at, so she obliged.

She felt rather than saw him sit behind her, and when he raised her hair off of her neck she shivered. She tried to convince herself it was because she was still freezing, but she had a feeling she wasn't fooling either of them.

When he started gently prodding around the base of her skull, she hissed in pain and tried to pull away. She hadn't realized that it was that sensitive, even when she had washed her hair the night before. "I take it that's a bit tender?"

Vivian gritted her teeth in annoyance at the mocking lilt his voice took. She was about to respond bitingly when he continued, "It looks like it's just bruised. No cuts or anything. Which is good."

She nodded tersely and turned to face him. "Great," she deadpanned, meeting his playful blue eyes with her stormy gray ones. He raised an eyebrow at her expression, but choose not to comment on it. It was probably a smart choice.

She all but forgot that she was irritated with him though when he began to gently stroke her check, right under her bruise. It stung, but it wasn't an unpleasant pain and it was easily forgotten when he was leaning in closer to inspect it. "These bruises really aren't that bad," he suddenly said, taking Vivian by such surprise that she jumped slightly. His gaze as well as his hand then drifted to her throat where the hand print was. "And how's your leg?"

Vivian glanced down and moved her leg up so that he could see the large purple blemish that covered part of her shin. When she looked back up at him, she noticed that his normally smiling face was now marred by a frown and Vivian felt the irrational urge to comfort him. "It's okay, really. Like I said, it's just that I heal slowly sometimes," she explained lamely.

Bucky looked at her as if he didn't believe a word she said, but nodded anyway. After a moment or two more of staring at each other intensely, he removed his hand from where it had been gently cradling her neck and scooted away from her on the couch, clearing his throat in discomfort. Vivian got the feeling that discomfort was something that Bucky didn't feel often, and she wasn't sure if she should be proud or embarrassed that she was able to illicit it from him.

"Well," he said, not meeting her eye. Vivian had the urge to find out why he was suddenly so uncomfortable, but decided that it was a bad idea and she probably didn't want to know anyway. "I don't think it's serious. Have you been eating and sleeping well? That could be the problem."

Vivian hesitated and he noticed. "What? You haven't?" He demanded, blue eyes growing concerned once more.

Her hesitance had been caused by her sudden remembrance of the fact that after she left here, she would have nowhere to go and nothing to eat until she found some poor man to steal from. But she couldn't tell him that. She also couldn't bring herself to confirm or deny what he was asking, only staring at him in response. She supposed that was as good as an answer.

"Where are you staying, Vivian? Are you not being taken care of?"

 _That_ certainly riled her inner feminist. "I don't _need_ to be taken care of, thank you very much," she said, glaring at him as she crossed her arms. "I can take care of myself just fine."

Bucky looked as though he wanted to argue but thought better of it. "Okay. But that doesn't answer my question. Where are you staying Vivian? I'll take you there after you're all dried off. We can stop at a diner and get you something to eat on the way."

Vivian chewed on her lip shamefully. She knew that Bucky was trying to be a good guy and help her, and she felt bad for snapping at him. But he was asking a lot of questions that she didn't have answers to. "I'm not sure yet," she finally answered, eyes downcast.

"What do you mean?" Bucky asked, brows furrowed in confusion. She tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a chuckle at his genuinely perplexed expression.

"I just haven't found a place yet," she answered lamely with a shrug. Now she was the one avoiding eye contact.

"You've been in town for _weeks_ now, Viv. Where have you been staying?" He demanded, looking at her as if she had just told him that he would grow up to become an assassin that would try to kill his own best friend on multiple occasions.

"Oh, just… around." When Bucky tilted his head and raised his brow in surprise with the errant thought of _"didn't peg her for a prostitute"_ slipping past her mental barriers, she quickly corrected him. "Nothing like that! Jesus. No, I've just been moving around a lot is all."

" _Why_?" he asked, still lost as to what the small, pretty girl in front of him could possibly be doing all alone in Brooklyn with nowhere to stay. "What happened to your friends?"

"They… left town. I had to stay behind." That, at least, wasn't a complete lie. "I'm looking for someone," she explained further when he only continued to stare at her in disbelief. "Once I find him, I'll be fine."

Bucky's blue eyes flashed with surprise and… jealousy? "Oh. So, a boyfriend then?" he asked, trying to play it off.

Vivian couldn't help the amused snort that escaped her at the thought. "No. God, no. Just a, uh… an old friend. Who happens to _be_ an old man," she clarified, smirking when the tension in Bucky's shoulder visibly lessened. "I'm supposed to be helping him with something."

"Oh…kay," Bucky said, only becoming more confused by the second. "So why aren't you with him then?"

Vivian sighed, cursing herself for getting in this mess. "It's… complicated. He wasn't expecting me. I was sent by a mutual friend. I'm just having some trouble locating him."

"Okay… so what? You've just been roaming the streets looking for him for two weeks?" he asked, disbelief coloring his town. She merely shrugged in response, not having anything better to offer. At her less than assuring response, Bucky stood up, expression suddenly replaced with determination. "Then you'll stay here until you find him."

Vivian's brows shot up comically fast and her mouth was suddenly hanging open in shock. "Y-you can't be serious," was all she could manage.

Bucky, who was now pacing in front of the couch, ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I am. I know that it's not great," he said, waving a hand in front of him to gesture to the apartment as a whole, "and that it's kind of… I don't know, _crude_ for me to ask you to stay here. But it's better than the streets and I don't think I could sleep at night knowing that I let you walk outta here, already beaten up pretty bad, with nowhere to go and no one to help you."

Vivian stood up and stepped into his path, reaching out to grip his broad shoulders tightly, taking him by surprise. "I appreciate the offer, Bucky, I really do. But I can't ask that of you, and you shouldn't offer. I'll be fine. I'll figure it out. You have no obligation to help me and I don't _need_ it," she said, trying to convey how serious, but touched she was.

"Where will you go?" he asked lowly, looking down at her with an intensity in his crystalline eyes that made her simultaneously uncomfortable and little _too_ comfortable. It was also then that she noticed that he was also rather soaked and his clothes clung to him tightly, rather spectacularly allowing her to see how well he was built.

 _God, Vivian, you're such a pervert_.

She swallowed thickly and tried to offer him a reassuring smile, forcing her eyes to remain locked on his. "I'll figure it out. I've got plenty of tricks up my sleeve."

He continued to stare at her for a moment, and when she dropped her hands from his shoulders, he caught her hands in his. "Listen… I know that you're probably not comfortable with staying with us, but it's still safer here than it is on the streets. _A lot_ safer. And you can take my bed." When Vivian opened her mouth to protest, Bucky shook his head and squeezed her hands. "Let me finish. You can stay in my room. I'm leaving in a couple weeks for basic training at Camp Leigh anyway. I'll stay with Steve in his room until then. Or until you find who you're looking for. I know that I don't have an obligation to you, and that I probably shouldn't be offering this, but I can't stomach the thought of something happening to you. And no matter what you say, a pretty girl like you out in Brooklyn alone after dark? It's bound to happen. I'm surprised it hasn't yet. So just… let us help you, Viv."

Vivian's throat tightened uncomfortably and she couldn't bring herself to look away from Bucky's pleading eyes. She knew that she would be fine if she left. She could take the money, find herself somewhere to stay, and if anyone tried to molest her in anyway, she could take care of herself, even without using her telepathy (though her last run-in with a drunk idiot seemed to indicate otherwise, largely thanks to her arrogance). But she couldn't lie and say she didn't see the appeal in Bucky's offer, regardless of how forward it was in this time period—or _any_ time period really. She wouldn't have to steal from anyone, potentially having a rather large, negative impact on their future. With their help navigating the unfamiliar city, she could probably find Dr. Erskine faster. And this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to get to know two of history's greatest war heroes personally. And with one small peek inside his mind, Vivian knew that Bucky was sincere in his desire to help her, something _he_ didn't even seem to fully understand. She quickly retreated from his thoughts though, when she found the effect to be rather intoxicating and she felt the desire to delve even further. But outwardly, she offered him a small smile, and said, "Okay, but you should talk to Steve first."

"Talk to Steve about what?" Steve asked as he exited his room, change of clothes in hand.

Bucky blinked rapidly, seeming to break out of some kind of trance and Vivian worried for a moment that she had accidentally scrambled his brain during her brief trip inside, but then he was turning to face Steve with a bright smile. "About our new guest!"

Steve cocked his head in confusion as he approached Vivian, stepping around Bucky to hand her the neatly folded pile of clothes. She thanked him quietly, but he didn't seem to hear her as he pressed, "What do you mean?"

"Well," Bucky said with a bashful smile, putting a hand in the pocket of his soaked pants and rubbing the back of his neck with the other. "Vivian here doesn't really have a place to stay, so I thought that it would be okay if she stayed here for a little while."

Steve didn't seem to know what to say to that at first, only muttering out a small "Oh." Vivian, feeling the tension, decided to excuse herself. "I'll let you boys talk about it. I'll just go change," she said, offering them another small, shy smile before scurrying into the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

She made quick work of getting out of her drenched clothes, clenching her jaw when the cool air hit her bare skin. As she unfolded the soft, cotton pants and slipped them on, she tried not to overhear the hushed and mildly heated conversation that was going on outside the door. She was tempted to listen, of course, maybe even try to see what Steve thought about it, but she fought the urge. She had tried very hard to break the habit of always trying to find out what people thought of her after one too many times of not liking the answer. So she continued to dress in silence, slipping her arms through the white button-up shirt Steve had given her and doing up the buttons as far as they would go. Which, sadly, were not as many as she would like.

She stepped back and locked at herself in the mirror. The pants were tight, but not overly so, and were only an inch or so too short. The shirt, however, was rather tight when it made its way to her bust, which was made even more unfortunate by the fact that she was unable to wear her bra as it had become soaked as well. She blushed furiously, but knew that there wasn't much to be done about it. She did, however, notice that her hair was rather frightful, and decided to take out the many pins and let it fall loosely down her back. That, at least, she could fix.

She realized that the boys weren't quite done discussing their predicament yet, so she decided to have a seat on the closed toilet lid, resting her head in her hand and heaving a great sigh. She had only been here an hour or two and had already gotten herself into quite the mess.

* * *

Meanwhile, Steve was interrogating Bucky in the other room. " _You invited her to stay here_?" Steve whispered lowly, not wanting the poor girl to overhear them.

"Yes," Bucky replied simply, sitting down on the couch and continuing to look at his friend expectantly.

"But… She's a _girl_ , Bucky. And we hardly know her," Steve protested.

"I know, Steve, I know. But she's got nowhere to go until she finds this guy—who is _not_ her boyfriend, by the way—and she's not familiar with the city. She's been on her own for a few weeks now, and I would feel terrible if anything happened to her because we didn't try to help," Bucky tried to explain, but even he knew that he sounded kind of crazy. They really _didn't_ know anything about this girl, and she wasn't exactly forthcoming with the details. But there was something about her that told him she was different, and that he would regret it if he didn't at least try to help her.

"I get it, Buck. She's a pretty dame that you think needs to be saved. I want to help her too. But this doesn't exactly look great," Steve argued weakly, plopping down in the seat next to his best friend.

Bucky snorted. "Since when have you ever let what anyone thought stop you from helping someone out? And this ain't got anything to do with her looks." At Steve's look of disbelief, Bucky laughed. "Alright. So I think she's gorgeous," he shrugged. "But this isn't some elaborate game to get her into bed."

"Oh really?" Steve said, raising an eyebrow.

"Really," Bucky said without a moment of hesitation, surprising himself. "I don't know what it is, Steve, but there's something different about that girl. It's not like I'm not _interested_ , but that's not why I'm doing this. She needs help and something tells me she's all on her own here. It's just for a day or two while she finds who she's looking for, and then she'll be on her way. Besides, it ain't like you to say no to a helping out a damsel in distress," Bucky teased, nudging Steve with his shoulder.

"Yeah, well helping them doesn't usually involve sharing an apartment with them," Steve muttered, but with one look at his friend's pleading gaze, he relented. "Fine, but you're staying with me. I won't let you take advantage of her."

Bucky laughed again, slinging his arm around Steve's shoulder. "That was always the plan. But thanks for keeping me in line, pal."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Well, somebody's got to."

Both sets of blue eyes darted to the door when they heard it crack open. Vivian was now peeking out from behind it, gray eyes cautious and unsure. "Are you guys done discussing my fate yet?"

"He said you can stay!" Bucky grinned and stood up, motioning for her to step out. When she did, Bucky raised a brow and immediately looked away. Steve was pretty small, which is why he had asked for him to loan Vivian some of his clothes, thinking they would be a better fit than his. Which they were. Probably _too_ good of a fit. The pants clung to her curves tightly, and they were a little too short. But the shirt was the real problem. Vivian had it buttoned up as far as it seemed willing to go, and she had her arms crossed tightly over her chest, trying to conceal what he could only imagine, but it also had the added effect of pushing her breasts up in a rather appealing way. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

Vivian cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Great!" She chirped, forcing cheerfulness. "Thank you both so much. But, I'm pretty tired. Do you mind if I go to bed?"

"Of course!" Bucky exclaimed, briefly making eye contact with her before turning his gaze on Steve, who was looking very pointedly at his shoes. "Follow me."

He led her across the living room to his bedroom, opening the door and allowing her to walk past him. She turned to face him, and he offered her what he hoped was a friendly smile. "You can stay in here. It's not much but," he shrugged, not sure what else to say about his modest room with a twin bed, luckily made as he had been hoping on finding some company before he ran into Vivian, and the small wooden dresser and desk that were on the opposite wall.

Vivian smiled at him sweetly, saying, "It's great. This is more than I could have hoped for. But you can still change your mind," she offered. "Make me sleep on the couch or kick me out altogether. I know I'm imposing quite a bit."

Bucky's smile relaxed into something a little more natural when he noticed the red tint to her checks and the way she looked at him, like she really _was_ grateful for his help. "Nah, this is fine. I don't mind sharing my bed with a beautiful dame every once in a while," he teased, shooting her a wink. If she was blushing before, her face was in flames now.

"Well… thanks, I guess," she replied awkwardly, before sitting on the edge of his bed, continuing to stare at him.

Not knowing what else to say, but not quite ready to leave her alone yet, he said, "Those clothes are probably uncomfortable. If you'd prefer, I can get you a pair of pajamas or something."

Vivian shook her head, and looked about his room as if taking it all in as she replied, "No thanks. That's not really necessary. I usually sleep—"

Bucky's eyebrows, once again, shot up in surprise as she clapped a hand over her mouth in mortification, seemingly as disbelieving as he was that she had almost said what he was pretty sure she was going to say. And as nice an image as the redhead that was currently residing in his bed being _naked_ in said bed was, he knew it wasn't one that he should have if he was going to behave himself. " _Okay_. Well, I'll let you get to sleep then. Let me know if you need anything!" And with that, he quickly retreated, closing the door behind him.

When Steve heard the door close, he looked up at Bucky with a pained expression. "This is a terrible idea."

Bucky shrugged casually before strolling into the kitchen to find something to eat. "'S no big deal. Her clothes'll be dry in the morning and then she can wear those. At least she went to bed."

Steve raised a wary eyebrow at his friend in slight disbelief. "I still can't believe that you aren't even _trying_."

Bucky turned to Steve with wide, falsely innocent eyes. "What kind of guy do you think I am? I'd never take advantage of a girl like that."

Steve chuckled and shook his head. "Well, I think you're the kind of guy who was on his way to meet a certain redhead named Dot when he ran into _her_. And I'm fairly certain that your intentions were less than pure."

Bucky shrugged. "And now I'm the kind of guy who's letting _her_ sleep in my bed _without_ me. I'm basically a saint."

"I think that's a bit of a stretch," Steve snorted. "I know you're a good guy Bucky. I didn't mean to imply that you aren't. Just with your past… it's hard for me to believe that you're missing out on a night with Dot because of a girl you don't really know. And I saw the way you looked, or _didn't_ look at her when she came out here. You didn't even say anything. That's not like you."

Bucky sighed and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from one of his cabinets, taking a long swig from it. "I know. I already told you Steve, she's different. I don't know why and I don't know what it means, but she is."

 **A/N: Thank you all for the great response to the last chapter. I'm not so sure about this one, at least towards the end. I'm having a hard time writing pre-war and pre-Winter Solider Bucky as in-character as we don't see too much of him. Let me know what you think! And thanks to NoVacancyMind, BatmanSkittles17, Johannes, Mellie89, redhead01, Calliope's Scribe, and Demon of Dark NOBLE for reviewing! You guys are awesome!**


	4. Rule 4: Don't Antagonize the Neighbors

Vivian was never one who found sleep easily. Most nights since she mutated at the age of fourteen were spent worrying about a perplexing mix of things: hearing other peoples' voices inside her head, learning how to survive on her own, learning how to adjust to a world full of people like her, a term paper do the next morning, a murderous madman blowing up the school for the fifth or so time. The list was extensive and exhausting, and Vivian always had trouble turning off her worries when it came time to sleep.

Which is why she was surprised, yet undeniably pleased, when sleep came so easily to her as she was nestled up tightly in Bucky's bed, reveling in the surprising warmth that the thin blanket provided as well as secretly enjoying the lingering smell of his cologne. She was even more surprised to find that she slept through the night with little problem as the first rays of daylight began to stream in through the bedroom window. Two days with little sleep had made her more exhausted than she thought.

Failing to stifle a large yawn with the back of her hand, Vivian blinked drowsily and stretched before slowly sitting up. She took in her surroundings with bleary gray eyes and was confused at finding barren walls and little else for all of two seconds before she remembered that she was presently residing in Captain America and the Winter Soldier's shared apartment, currently laying in said assassin's bed. She would have laughed if she wasn't so worried that she was about to really ruin her life. And potentially everyone else's.

 _One day down, roughly five hundred and fifty to go._

And with that rather encouraging thought, Vivian decided it was time to get out of the assassin's bed and get started with her mission.

Tip-toeing as quietly as possible, Vivian crossed the room and cracked the door open to peer into the living room. For once, luck appeared to be on her side as neither of the boys were up yet. Still trying to remain as stealthy as possible, she all but ran across the room to make her way into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her.

Finding her clothes to be blessedly dry, she pulled them down from the shower curtain rod where they were drying and hastily undressed and put them back on, not bothering to shower. She didn't want to wake the boys at such an hour, and if she were being honest, she wasn't a hundred percent comfortable with using their shower anyway.

Vivian's luck seemed to hold as both of her new roommates seemed to still be asleep as she softly closed the bathroom door behind her and made her way to the front door, heels clutched tightly in her left hand as she tiptoed across the living room. As soon as she had made her way safely out of the apartment and into the exterior hallway of their apartment building, Vivian leaned back against the door and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She really didn't fancy the idea of having to explain to the boys where she was going at such an hour and answering any other questions that they may have of her. While she was easily capable of silencing any of their thoughts, she knew that any attempts at repeatedly meddling with ones thoughts did not usually end favorably and she didn't really want to turn either of their minds to mush so early in the game. It would make the rest of her mission pretty awkward, considering.

She was unfortunately brought out of her inner musings of her impending doom when a dignified _hmph_ sounded directly in front of her. Vivian's eyes snapped open in alarm, having not sensed the new presence in her mild internal panic. She relaxed minutely when she realized it was only a little old lady who was clutching a dog's leash tightly in one hand and her purse in the other. Her relief was short lived, however, when she saw what appeared to be the wrath of God shining in her beady hazel eyes and the decidedly displeased twist of her wrinkled mouth.

Try as she might, Vivian rarely got on well with the few elderly people she encountered in her life. She had a feeling this would likely be one of the more disastrous of her attempts. Or lack thereof, really.

"Good morning," Vivian chirped, directing a friendly smile at the small woman in front of her. When she didn't get a response and the lady still remained in her way, her smile wavered slightly. "May I help you with something, ma'am?"

Well that surely got a reaction out of the living embodiment of judgment, as she scoffed and her face screwed up impossibly tighter in displeasure. "I highly doubt that, _girl_. What do you think you are doing?"

Taken aback by such a venomous question at such an early hour, Vivian blinked a few times before she formulated a response. "I'm just… going to get some breakfast. If you'll excuse me."

And as she tried to slide past the woman in the cramped confines of the hallway, Vivian found herself almost laughing as the woman moved to block her, standing nearly six inches shorter than her and glaring up into Vivian's mildly amused expression with pure loathing. Vivian had been hated by many people before, but never so early in the morning and with so little cause. She found herself at a loss as to whether she should be proud or saddened by the fact that she apparently had that effect on people.

"You're another one of _his,_ I see." Vivian cocked her head to the side in confusion once more, but found herself unable to question to whom the woman was referring before she continued on her tirade. "Back in my day, nice young ladies didn't traipse about the town, leaving a gentleman's apartment in the wee hours of the morning and then disrespecting their elders. You should be _ashamed_ of yourself, missy. _He_ sees all, you know, and He will not look favorably upon you now."

And suddenly, the dots connected in Vivian's still sleep-clouded mind and realized that she was currently being slut-shamed for something she didn't even do by an old lady she didn't even know, 47 years before she was even born. She couldn't help the undignified snort that escaped her or the pleasure she received from the appalled look she received from the crone when she replied, "Well I sure hope He saw us. It'd be a shame if he missed out on the action. After all, it _was_ pretty amazing."

And with that, Vivian sidled past the poor old lady who only turned to gape at her in apparent disbelief as she flounced down the stairs and onto the sidewalk. It would appear that Vivian's sass was something that was not often directed towards the elderly in 1943, and she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride at having assisted in educating Bucky and Steve's nosy neighbor. She only hoped that the woman didn't confront Bucky about it, as that could lead to some awkward questions.

Now refocused on the task at hand, Vivian set off to look for a recruitment center that may or may not lead her to Dr. Erskine. The clock in Bucky's room had told her that is was nearly 6 a.m. when she had first woken up, so she assumed it was roughly 6:30 by now. She wasn't sure if the office would yet be open, but she figured it didn't hurt to check.

The problem, of course, was that she didn't know where to start. With a resigned sigh and a forced smile on her face, Vivian decided that the best course of action would be to simply _ask_. A local should know where the nearest recruitment stations are and should be kind enough to answer a polite question. It should be no problem.

And it likely wouldn't have been a problem, if the first person she saw hadn't turned out to be such an ass.

"Good morning," Vivian greeted the man leaning against the counter of the rundown newspaper stand, though her smile instantly turned into a grimace as the man turned a disinterested eye on her and promptly blew his cigarette smoke into her face.

"What d'ya want?" The balding, seemingly perpetually frowning man muttered, his cigarette dangling precariously from his lips. Vivian had a fleeting worry that the thing would fall from his mouth and set the newspapers that lay directly beneath the man's elbows (and everywhere) aflame, but she quickly batted the thought away as she tried to suppress a cough and resisted the urge to fan the smoke away from her face.

"Um, I was just wondering if you would be so kind as to tell me where the army's recruitment office is?" She attempted another charming smile, but the man appeared to be having none of it if his furrowed brow and displeased downturn of his mouth indicated anything.

Which, it apparently did. "Why do you wanta know, doll face?"

Vivian frowned, noting that though she found Bucky's use of endearments for her to be charming, this man's name for her made her skin crawl and caused irritation to alight in her eyes. "I have business there. I just seem to have forgotten the address," she pressed, hoping that he would just tell her so she could be on her way.

However, the man simply snorted in response before deciding to further demean her. "Oh yeah? And what's a thing like you got business there for? Or I guess I should be askin' _who's_ business you're going there for." While the man snickered at his clearly superior wit, Vivian narrowed her steel-like eyes at him. It appeared that a self-respecting girl couldn't go on an early morning stroll without being thought a harlot in 1943. Or maybe it was just her. But either way, Vivian was not a fan of the mocking at her expense, and she strove to make that clear to the chortling idiot in front of her. As politely as possible, of course.

Yet she had the feeling that her snark wasn't the answer this time.

Her lightly freckled hand that would appear unassuming to most suddenly shot out to grasp the wrist that was holding the man's rather unattractive head upright and twisted it with a surprising strength and yanked it down, causing the man to cry out in alarm and the cigarette to fall out of his mouth and roll onto the pavement. "I've asked nicely, but since you appear to be too busy laughing at your own asinine jokes, I'm afraid I'll have to be a little more direct. Where is the recruitment office, _sir_?"

The man simply stared at her in a horrified sort of awe, mouth agape and eyes blinking comically, apparently unused to being manhandled in such a way by a _lady_. He didn't answer her while in his dumbfounded state, but he didn't need to. Vivian was already sifting through his mind, finding the answer that he wasn't able to speak, but that her question naturally brought to the forefront of his mind. Sometimes it was rather easy to get the answers one needed, if only you applied a little pressure. Of course, being a telepath certainly helped.

Smirking at him in victory, though he had no way of knowing that she had actually gained the knowledge she asked for, Vivian released his wrist just as quickly as she had grasped it. "Thank you for your assistance," was the last thing she said to him before turning on her heel and continuing on her way. But not before she stamped out the still smoking cigarette butt that now lay on the ground at her feet. Even if the guy was a rude pervert, she didn't feel the need to accidentally set his newspaper stand on fire.

It had been a while since Vivian had used her _gift_ so forcefully, usually just flitting from one mind to the next as quickly as possible, or tuning them out altogether. She felt an odd sense of pleasure for having done so, but she tried to push it back. There was a time when Vivian relished in her powers, loving the feeling of besting someone without their knowledge, but that was a long time ago and blessedly short-lived. And it had taught her to show restraint and caution before she chose to use her telepathy, and even more when actually applying it. But she couldn't feel too bad about the way she used it on the greasy jerk now several feet behind her, even if she did perhaps manhandle him a bit more than was strictly necessary. Which was admittedly none at all, but she still felt that he deserved it. And he had lost nothing from the exchange, if only his pride.

A slight grin now tugging at the corner of her lips and the thought of perhaps teaching a sexist prick to have a healthy fear of a woman scorned, Vivian continued down the path that now resided in her mind, thanks to said sexist prick and she arrived at the office in mere minutes. Though it appeared her luck for the day was now run out, as it was closed for at least another hour.

With a huff, Vivian turned to sit on the steps, debating her options. She could wait until the office opened, and then ask around about Dr. Erskine. That seemed like the safest option, but Vivian wasn't exactly the patient sort. Which lead her to make a rather less safe option, something she preferred to call a 'calculated risk,' and break into the office and do some recon first.

Glancing left and right to ensure that none of the Brooklyn residents that were already crowding the streets were paying attention to her, Vivian stood and quickly darted to the side of the building. As she was debating her options of breaking into a military facility (she wasn't very good at picking locks, but she was actually rather fond of utilizing air vents), she noticed a fire escape to her left and decided to give it a shot. The ladder was held a little too high for Vivian to grasp at her height, so she took a few steps back before running forward and leaping up to grasp the bottom rung to begin her ascent.

Clambering up the fire escape as quickly as possible, Vivian came to a stop at the window to what appeared to be an office. As it was currently uninhabited, she decided it was as good a place as any to start. As an impulse decision, she started by simply trying to lift the window open, although surely an army office would be more—

With a slightly distressing groan of protest, the window opened beneath Vivian's hands. It would appear that the army was _not_ actually smarter than that after all. Blinking back her surprise at her luck, Vivian ducked inside, landing in a crouch beneath the window almost silently, as Scott and her other X-Men mentors had trained her to do.

One had to do a surprising amount of breaking and entering as a mutant.

Rising from her position on the floor, Vivian took a quick stock of her surroundings. A desk, shoved into the corner of the room, metals and awards lining a bookshelf with a surprising lack of books in the center of the far left wall, and not much else aside from the door that was directly across from where she stood now. Most certainly not the office of a genius who is attempting to find recruits for his super soldier program. After only a brief moment of deliberation, Vivian strode across the room and gently eased the door open, peeking out into the deserted hallway.

With a newfound confidence granted to her after her putting Newspaper Guy in his place and successfully breaking into an empty military-operated facility, Vivian made her way down the corridor with a slight skip in her step, glancing into every room as she went, finding mostly exam rooms and empty offices much like the one she entered through.

Her confidence, however, appeared to be both unwarranted and short-lived, as after she turned away from the last room in that hallway, she collided solidly with the well-built chest of a stern looking man with a neat, gray buzz-cut and what appeared to be a permanent scowl on his face.

She hurriedly stepped back to look at the unsmiling man with large eyes and, as always, tried for a pleasant, and perhaps a little stupid, approach to the situation. "Oh, hello."

The man did not return her friendly smile, however. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

"Who? Me?" Vivian asked, glancing left and right as if to ensure that she was, in fact, the only other person in the hallway. "Don't you remember, sir? I work with Dr. Erskine. You asked me to come in early to help prepare. Isn't he coming in today?"

As she was saying this, attempting to kill two birds with one stone (i.e. bird one: get information on Dr. Erskine, bird two: don't get thrown out/arrested by scary army guy, stone: lie), Vivian entered his mind, placing a false memory of the event that she had just described as well as willing him to believe her. As usual, she found success with only a mild amount of effort. The average person didn't usually have the capacity to fight off any telepathy, regardless of its strength. At least for a short amount of time.

The man blinked down at her, eyes clouding in confusion before refocusing on her still-smiling face with a sudden clarity. "Right, of course. I'm sorry Miss…"

"Grant," Vivian supplied helpfully.

"Yes. Miss Grant. You work for Dr. Erskine, you're here to help him…" Buzzcut then trailed off, looking rather confused again, though not at all suspicious of Vivian any longer.

Her smile slipped as she dove back into his mind and asked, "Is there a problem?"

He answered her aloud only moments after she found the answer in his mind. "No. It's just that Dr. Erskine is still at Camp Lehigh, and we just got word that he might not be back for another month. The Project has hit a couple snags and he has to stay at his lab on base."

At this new information, Vivian frowned. While it wasn't the worst news, as it meant she had actually made it to the right place and now knew when and where she could find Dr. Erskine, it also meant that she would have to wait another month before she would be able to reach him.

Moving past her disappointment, Vivian smiled politely at the man in front of her once more. "Of course. He asked me to fetch some things and bring them to him. Would you mind showing me to his office? I seem to have forgotten the way."

And with one gentle nudge to his mind, they were off. Her new army friend led her down a few winding hallways, passing a few other army personnel that thankfully did nothing more than glance her way when they saw who she was with, and eventually they arrived at an office that Vivian thought suited a scientist much better than any of the others that she had come across. Her guide did not feel the need to stay any longer after unlocking the door for her, and she didn't protest his departure.

Vivian looked around herself, taking in the scattered notes and random pieces of scientific equipment strewn about that she didn't recognize in the slightest. She quickly zoned in on the large filling cabinet that was situated in the corner of the room and crossed the room to rifle through it.

What she found was sadly yet another disappointment, though it wasn't exactly unexpected. This clearly was not the secret bunker that Kitty had alluded to and Vivian doubted that she would be able to break into such a place without creating too large of a stir even if she _did_ find it. Not to mention that all of the drawers were unlocked, implying that their contents did not contain any secrets as important as the existence of mutants. Nevertheless, she scanned through each and every file as quickly as possible, only to be let down each and every time. It would appear that would truly have to wait for the good doctor's arrival to begin her mission after all.

With a heavy sigh and significantly less confidence than she arrived with, she exited the building through the window in Dr. Erskine's office, not wanting to have to go through the whole "Dr. Erskine's assistant" spiel again with anyone she met on her way to the door. Unfortunately, there wasn't a fire escape leading to this window, and she was on the second floor. With a groan of exasperation and a short prayer to any god that would listen that she wouldn't accidentally kill herself, Vivian sat on the now open window's ledge, swung her legs out in front of her, and leapt onto the concrete below.

Sadly, her exit was not as smooth as her entry, and as she hit the pavement behind the building, legs bent for impact, she pitched forward, landing on her hands and knees once again.

"For a member of an elite group of mutant superheroes, I sure know how to make the simplest of superhero-y tasks life-threatening," Vivian muttered to herself before standing, dusting herself off, and heading back the way she came.

As Vivian made her way back to Bucky and Steve's apartment, she stewed over what her next course of action should be. She couldn't stay with the boys forever, but she still didn't know how exactly she should go about killing a month's worth of time in a decade she was completely unfamiliar with that had no one she could go to for help.

It was while she was mentally debating her options that her stomach growled and she remembered that she hadn't eaten anything in the last twelve hours or so. It was also then that she passed a diner, and one that she recognized as well. Deciding to make what she thought was a well-deserved pit stop, Vivian entered the restaurant she had met Kitty and Cassidy at only two days ago. Though, she supposed that it was actually two weeks ago to anyone else.

Vivian sighed as she approached the counter, realizing for the hundredth or so time in the past 48 hours that time travel was exhausting and impossibly confusing. As soon as she leaned against the counter, an older man with a tired expression on his face moved to greet her.

"How can I help you?" he asked, with about as much enthusiasm as Vivian was feeling at that moment. She couldn't fault him for it.

"I'd like to place an order to-go, please," she told him, mustering up a weak smile in an attempt to seem friendly. The man didn't seem to notice or care, instead simply grabbing a pad of paper and a pen and waving at her to indicate that he was ready. She quickly gave him her order, choosing several random items off the menu that she deemed to be enough to feed both her and her two companions. As soon as she finished, the man shuffled off to the kitchen to place the order, not saying another word to her. Vivian was actually rather okay with that, as after her spectacularly disappointing start to the day she wasn't feeling very talkative anyway.

However, it appeared that not everyone was on the same page as Vivian and the grumpy old man.

"Oh, you look familiar."

It took Vivian a moment to realize that the petite woman with the curly red hair and large, friendly smile was speaking to her, despite the fact that she was currently standing directly on the other side of the counter. Vivian slowly raised her head to meet the blue eyes of the girl who was apparently trying to make conversation at her. She offered her a small smile in return, though it likely did not meet the same level of enthusiasm as the bubbly waitress's. "I'm afraid I don't remember meeting before," was her equally weak response.

"Oh no, we haven't. But you came in here with Bucky and Steve a few weeks ago, didn't you?" the girl asked, still smiling brightly.

Vivian blinked in surprise, but nodded anyway. "Oh, um, yeah. I think so."

The girl nodded, holding out a hand to her. "I'm Dot, by the way. I'm a friend of Bucky's."

Vivian shook the girls hand once, perhaps a bit too firmly if the slight widening of Dot's eyes indicated anything, and simply told the redhead her name in response. She had assumed that that would be the end of their thus far pretty awkward exchange, but she was mistaken.

"So, how do you know Steve?"

Again, Vivian returned her attention to Dot in surprise. "I don't, really."

"Oh," Dot said, her smile falling for the first time since she approached her. "So you're a friend of Bucky's then?"

Vivian cocked her head to the side, raising one slender eyebrow in mild amusement. Though she was a little slow on the uptake, she finally realized what this interaction actually was. She was being felt out, with Dot trying to piece together her relationship with Bucky. And though she found this to actually be rather amusing, she wasn't necessarily in the mood for such a conversation at that exact moment in time. "Not really," was her lackluster response, once again moving her gaze from Dot to the kitchen.

"Oh. Okay." And just when she thought the interrogation was over, she was again surprised by the girl's tenacity. "That's a lot of food for one person. You have company?"

Vivian's brow furrowed at the somewhat rude insinuation, and decided to reply honestly, if only to receive the sick satisfaction of giving Dot exactly what she wanted. She may be a part-time X-Man, but she wasn't a saint. "No," she said, a soft smirk gracing her lips. "I _am_ company. I decided to get breakfast for all three of us."

That was apparently not the response Dot was expecting as her eyes grew wide and her mouth gaped minutely immediately after the words left Vivian's mouth, and she honestly couldn't blame her. Vivian doubted that many women were so forward or openly cheeky in 1943. They displayed their discontent with tactfully chosen double-edged words. Unfortunately, tact was not always Vivian's strong suit.

Dot quickly recovered, however, and smiled at her once more. She was actually almost impressed by how convincing it was, even though she could tell without her telepathy that she was seething inside. "Oh really? Are you not from around here?"

"Nope."

When she didn't get further explanation than that, Dot decided to try her hand at being forward as well. "I see. So, who are you staying with then?"

"Bucky and Steve, of course," Vivian replied, flashing Dot another of her most saccharine smiles before she was blessedly saved by her grumpy friend who had just arrived with her order.

As the man started to ring up her order, Vivian returned her attention to the apparently shell-shocked Dot, saying "It was lovely meeting you," before she moved to meet the man at the cash register.

Which is where the real unpleasantness began.

Steeling herself, Vivian approached the man with a wide smile. She entered his mind, moments before he was about to tell her the total, and planted within it what she wished. So instead of a gruff announcement of what she owed, he told her with a small smile, "It's on the house today, miss."

Trying to ignore the slight pang of guilt that coursed through her, Vivian thanked him profusely before snatching up the bag and leaving the diner behind before the man could even consider that what he had just done was odd.

It was times like these that Vivian wished that her mutation was less… corrupt. While she would readily admit that telepathy had innumerable advantages, she couldn't help but feel like a criminal every time she peeked into someone's mind, made them think things they didn't want to, do things they couldn't control, give her things that they wouldn't otherwise. Stealing was one of her least favorite uses of her talent, and though she was aware that she had no other way to get food and the man she had compelled to give it to her was not going to be directly affected, she still felt sleazy for doing it. Though if she were being truly honest with herself, it wasn't the act of stealing itself that really unsettled her, but the reminder of a time not that long ago when she didn't show restraint when utilizing her gift and of how much she had actually _enjoyed_ the ability to get whatever she wanted if only she was willing to apply a little pressure.

But Vivian wasn't generally a fan of being honest with herself (likely a habit created by the necessity to lie to everyone around her for the majority of her life), so she quickly shook off her guilt and continued the short distance to Bucky and Steve's apartment.

* * *

It was still early when Bucky found himself being rudely awoken by a pillow being flung in his face, just past 7, and his sudden consciousness was punctuated with a loud groan and a few mumbled curses. Sleeping on the floor didn't exactly agree with him.

 _But it's for a good cause_ , he reminded himself with a chuckle at the thought of the feisty redhead that was probably still asleep across the apartment.

"Rise and shine, punk," Steve called down, and Bucky removed the pillow from his face to find his best friend smiling at him from his position on his bed. Bucky let out another groan is response.

"It's never a good morning if I'm awake before 8," Bucky mumbled, turning back onto his stomach and burying his face into the pillow that Steve had just generously provided him with moments before.

Steve chuckled at his expense. "Yeah, well you'll have to get used to it once you get to Camp Lehigh."

And the previously lighthearted nature of their conversation seemed to take a rather sudden dark turn. The fact that Bucky was leaving to begin his training in a little over a week was not a topic that either of them had really broached yet. Considering the fact Bucky was well aware that he was shipping off to train to fight in a war that would likely kill him before it ended, neither of them were very eager to bring it up, preferring to enjoy what little time they had left in the safety of their little Brooklyn apartment. Bucky was just glad that Steve's attempts to follow him into war had been met with rejection after rejection. He hoped that he had stopped trying, but Steve wasn't typically the type to give up on anything.

While his thoughts had taken on a bleak note, he let none of that show in his voice when he replied, "Yeah, well I've still got time left. And I'm not going to waste it by waking up any sooner than is absolutely necessary."

And though Bucky knew Steve could see right through him, he didn't push the subject. Instead saying, "That's fair… but I think you might be forgetting about the guest that you insisted on having. She might be up already."

Bucky, of course, wanted nothing more than to tell Steve to forget it and go back to sleep, but he knew he was right. It would be pretty rude to leave the girl you had just offered shelter to the night before wander around the apartment of two strange men on her own. Not to mention he had quite a few questions that he would really love to get some answers to now that she wasn't soaking wet and traumatized. Though if he was being honest, Vivian probably wasn't as traumatized as a girl who had just spent two weeks in Brooklyn alone should be. Which just raised more questions.

So with one last groan, Bucky got up from his uncomfortable position on the floor and made to get ready for the day. Making sure to actually throw on a shirt before exiting Steve's room, as opposed to his typical half-naked roaming of his apartment in the early hours of the morning, Bucky made his way to the kitchen to start the coffee that was oh so essential to his morning routine.

As he was about to head into the bathroom to take a shower, he remembered that Vivian likely wouldn't appreciate it if she woke up in the meantime and was treated to the sight of him walking around in nothing but a towel. Or maybe she would appreciate it, which led to a whole other set of problems. Or not, depending on how you looked at it. But regardless of Vivian's actual stance on Bucky's level of nudity, he figured he should be a gentleman and get dressed before he left the bathroom. Which would require him to bring his clothes in with him, and Bucky quickly realized that he didn't pull out any clothes from his room before turning it over to his redheaded guest.

With a shrug, Bucky made his way over to his bedroom door to knock, hoping that Vivian was awake after all. However, when his repeated, light pounding on the door didn't appear to rouse her, he doubted that she was.

"Vivian," he called, raising his voice just a bit over his normal volume, hoping to rouse her but not terrify her. "Hey, is it alright if I come in? I need to grab a few things."

When no response came, he turned to find Steve watching him across from the living room, a quizzical look on his face. "What are you doing?"

Bucky gestured helplessly at the still firmly shut door. "I need to get some clothes but I think she's still asleep. Should I just go in?"

Steve's eyes widened as if Bucky had just suggested they strip naked and run about the apartment. " _What_?" he whisper-shouted, coming closer to Bucky, still looking mortified. "What if she wakes up? You'll terrify her!"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Have you met the girl? She doesn't scare that easy. Besides I'll be in and out before she even knows it. If she didn't wake up with all of the racket I was just making, I doubt she will if I go in."

Steve gave Bucky an exasperated look, as if he were missing the point. Which, he apparently was. "That's not the point, Buck! You're invading her privacy. The poor girl's got it bad enough, having to sleep in the same apartment with two guys she barely knows, without one of them going into her room while she's still asleep!"

At Steve's apparent change of attitude in regards to Vivian's stay with them, Bucky couldn't help but grin. "Guess she got pretty lucky that she ended up in our apartment then, huh?" And after Bucky nudged him playfully and Steve rolled his eyes at him in annoyance and resignation, Bucky cracked the door open to find…

Nothing.

Bucky frowned, opening the door more fully to examine the room in its entirety, as if he expected her to be hiding somewhere. When she still remained out of view, he turned to Steve. "She's gone."

Steve's expression mirrored his, and he hesitantly peaked around the doorway to confirm what Bucky had said. "Huh. Well I guess we don't need to worry about scaring her anymore."

Bucky snorted and shook his head, fully entering his room to retrieve his clothes. "Yeah, I guess. Where do you think she went though?"

Steve shrugged, appearing to make an attempt at nonchalance, but the frown that was still on his face belied his concern. But that was just who Steve was, he worried about everything and everyone, and Bucky knew he wouldn't like the idea of Vivian trying to figure out New York City on her own any more than he did. "I don't know. I didn't hear her this morning."

Bucky slid past Steve who was still standing in his doorway, deciding that he was going to shower regardless. "I'm sure she's fine," he said, infusing more confidence than he really felt into that sentence. "Maybe she went out looking for that guy."

Steve nodded, muttering, "Maybe," before hesitating. Bucky stopped at the entrance to their bathroom, turning to face his friend with one quizzical brow raised. "Buck, you… you don't think she swindled us or anything…right?"

Bucky frowned, but not because he was upset with Steve for thinking such a thing, more because he was surprised he hadn't thought it himself. Steve was usually the optimist who liked to see the best in people, while Bucky typically found himself at the other end of the scale. Yet, not once had he been concerned that Vivian had anything less than pure intentions.

Sure, the girl wasn't exactly forthcoming with information about herself, but that didn't mean she was trying to _steal_ from them or anything. Besides, she didn't really seem like the type. Though, Bucky had to admit somewhat reluctantly that his views on Vivian may or may not have been swayed by his infatuation with the redhead. She wasn't the first to use him and his weakness for a pretty face, and she likely wouldn't be the last.

In the end, he only shrugged and said, "I dunno. Doesn't look like she took anything, but go ahead and have a look," before leaving Steve to take a shower.

His shower lasted only ten minutes or so, but the whole time he was kicking himself for having trusted Vivian so much without really even knowing her. And for what? He would admit that he thought she was a pretty dame, and he had certainly never met a girl like her before, with a sharp wit and an affinity for saying exactly what she was thinking. But it's not like his affection for her was out of the ordinary. Growing up, Bucky's mom had always told him he was "doll dizzy," and she was right. Girls liked him and he liked girls. It usually worked out in his favor. But he would have a hard time forgiving himself if he had just gotten himself and Steve robbed just because he thought a pretty redhead needed his help. It was all pretty stupid, and his mother would likely faint if she found out that Bucky had let her stay with them. _Encouraged_ even.

Boy, he really _was_ stupid sometimes.

With a frustrated sigh, Bucky turned off the water before drying off and getting dressed. When he found Steve sitting on the couch, sketch pad in hand, he merely raised a brow in question. Steve, having looked up when he heard him leave, answered his unspoken question. "She didn't take anything. She must just be an early riser."

Letting out a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief, Bucky relaxed, throwing Steve an easy-going smile. "See, pal? I told ya there was nothing to worry about."

Steve rolled his eyes at Bucky as he passed him, swatting his hand away when it came up to ruffle his hair. Bucky then opened the fridge, looking for something to eat.

"We need milk," Steve called out to him, not looking up from his sketch pad.

Bucky groaned. "And I suppose you want me to go get it?"

Steve threw him a crooked smile. "Well, you _are_ the only one who is showered and ready. So yeah, that'd be great, Buck."

"Yeah, okay, punk," Bucky replied with a short laugh before turning back around and heading out the door.

He had just finished locking the door from behind him when he heard the door directly across from theirs open. Knowing immediately who it was and that he was likely about to be treated to a wonderful exercise in maintaining one's manners, Bucky donned his most charming smile before turning to face his neighbor. "Well, good morning Mrs. Peterson. How are you?"

The elderly woman, as usual, was not swayed by his charm whatsoever. "I'd be much better if you'd stop bringing those floozies around here, _James_."

Bucky tried not to roll his eyes at the insistent use of his first name. "'Fraid I don't know what you're talkin' about, Mrs. Peterson."

"Oh _really_ , James. I must say, you've really out-done yourself this time. This one was the worst one yet."

Now that actually caught his attention. "You mean this morning?"

If at all possible, Mrs. Peterson's scowl only deepened. "My Lord, can you really not keep them straight? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Yes, this morning. Tall, redheaded thing with a mouth. She was an absolute terror."

Well that certainly sounded like Vivian.

Bucky hummed in thought before snapping his fingers. "Oh right! _That_ one. I've been lookin' for her, actually. Did she tell you where she was going?"

Mrs. Peterson let out a surprisingly unladylike bark of laughter. "Hell, most like." And with that, she turned away from Bucky, heading back into her apartment and slamming her door behind her.

Bucky stared at it in mild shock for a moment, before shrugging and continuing on his way to the grocery store. Mrs. Peterson's dislike of Bucky was well known, but she was unusually agitated today, making him wonder what exactly his lovely guest had said to rile her so. The mere thought of the possibilities had him chuckling the whole way to the store.

As he entered his normal grocery store, Bucky made quick work of locating the milk and purchasing it, rather eager to get back to his apartment and eat. However, as he was exiting the store, he noticed a familiar head of auburn hair and the confident stride of his missing house guest. Hesitating only for a moment, he called out to her, jogging through the crowd to catch up to her quick pace. She didn't appear to hear him, however, so once he caught up to her he placed his right hand on her left shoulder, attempting to get her attention.

It wasn't often that Bucky was surprised in situations such as these, thanks to his quick reflexes and acute awareness of his surroundings honed by years of boxing. However, he wasn't prepared for Vivian to spin on her heel moments before his hand even made contact with her shoulder, twisting around to grasp his wrist in a vice-like grip the second he touched her. He did, however, notice that in her haste to defend herself, she had dropped a large, brown bag. Bucky's left hand, the one not currently being strangled by the woman beside him, shot out to grab it before it made it to the ground, barley managing to still hang onto the bag containing his carton of milk as well.

Unfortunately, he still wasn't able to respond, something else that was unusual for him. He found himself locked in Vivian's cold, gray gaze, and though he had more than once thought that her particular shade of dark gray, bordering on blue eyes were actually very pretty, that wasn't what gave him pause now. It was the determined, steely look she gave him, as if she had fully expected him to be attacking her rather than simply getting her attention. Not many girls he knew had ever looked at him with such fierce defensiveness before. Hell, he'd probably never met a guy outside of the ring that looked at him like that. Yet here this small, seemingly harmless girl stood, looking for all the world like she was prepared to kill him if need be. And that wasn't something he was prepared for. And he couldn't help but wonder what exactly this girl had been through to make her react in such a way.

But then her defensive stance relaxed and she let go of his wrist, her previously stern expression even softening into a smile as she laughed. "Oh, thank God it's you. And you saved our breakfast! Nice reflexes."

Bucky merely blinked at her for a moment, feeling as though he suddenly had whiplash from the dramatic turn in the situation. As usual, he was quick to shake it off, raising an eyebrow at her and offering her his arm to continue on their way to the apartment. Vivian gave him another smile in response before taking looping her arm with his.

"My reflexes? You're one to talk. I've never been so scared that someone was about to break my wrist before, and I get beat up for a living."

Vivian let out a peal of laughter at that. "Oh, yeah, I bet you were real scared. Sorry about that though. You caught me off guard."

Bucky was about to ask her where she had learned to do something like that, but thought better of it when he saw her shoulders stiffen and the distinct tightening of her still-present smile. "So, what's this I hear about 'our breakfast'?"

"Oh! Right. I decided to thank you boys for being so kind to me, and I figured the best way to do that was food. However, I didn't think that I would really accomplish that by poising you, so a trip to the diner was necessary."

Bucky chuckled at that. "I see. This is from Lenny's, right?" he asked, holding up the large bag for emphasis.

Vivian nodded, before her eyes glinted in a playful way that Bucky wasn't sure he should like or fear. "Yeah. I met a friend of yours, by the way. She was real nice."

Bucky suppressed a groan. "Oh yeah? And who was that?"

Vivian hummed in thought, though Bucky had the distinct impression that she was just toying with him. "I think it was Dot. Yeah, Dot. Asked me a lot of questions about you and our relationship."

Bucky couldn't help but snort at that. "Oh did she? And what did you tell her?"

Vivian's smile turned a bit wicked. "Just the truth. That I had stayed with you and was picking up breakfast for the three of us. She didn't seem to like that though. Is she your girlfriend?"

Now Bucky was the one smirking down at her. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I think I'd like to know if I need to avoid any particular diners if I'd prefer to not be poisoned," Vivian snickered, her eyes shining with mirth. "Though to be fair, I don't think I'd much appreciate it if _my_ boyfriend allowed random girls to sleep in his bed either."

Bucky rolled his eyes at that, but couldn't help the amused smile that was stuck on his face. "Well, you're in luck. She's not my girlfriend, so I'm sure your food is safe."

"Well, that _is_ a relief," Vivian said as they finally approached the door to Bucky's apartment. "It does smell pretty good. I'd hate for it to go to waste."

Bucky was still chuckling as he unlocked the door, and he noticed that Steve was eyeing him curiously as he exited the bathroom, apparently having just showered. "Look who I found," he informed his best friend, lifting the bag high in the air and jiggling it before stepping aside to allow Vivian to enter behind him. She gave Steve a small smile and a lighthearted "good morning" before snatching the bag from Bucky's extended arm, having to jump a little to do so, and making her way to the kitchen.

Steve continued to stare at them both in apparent surprise for a moment before composing himself, following Vivian into the kitchen to help her get breakfast ready. Bucky followed a few seconds behind, coming to a stop in the doorway, leaning against the wall as he observed Steve getting out plates as Vivian started taking the food out of the bag.

"So," Bucky said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "You were up pretty early this morning."

He had tried for a lighthearted attempt at figuring out where she had gone, as he was fully aware that it was really none of his business and that there was no way to ask her without sounding like a scolding parent. It appeared that his attempt was unsuccessful, however, as Vivian turned to appraise him with a raised brow.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said, after a moments pause, turning back to begin dividing the food onto the three plates Steve had given her. "Like I said, I thought I should get you guys some breakfast as a lackluster thank you."

Bucky waited a moment, seeing if she would continue before he said anything. And when it appeared that she wasn't going to, he had just opened his mouth to tell her that it was no problem when she surprised him and offered more information. "I also wanted to get an early start on finding my friend."

"Oh," Steve said, sounding interested. "And how did that go?" His eyes widened a bit and he hurriedly added, "If you don't mind me asking," apparently afraid that he had overstepped.

Vivian, however, didn't think so as she scoffed in response. "You let me stay in your apartment last night, Steve. You can ask me whatever you want… not that I'll always answer," she teased, sending him a quick smile before continuing. "But, not well, actually. I found one of his… acquaintances, I guess. He said he's out of town for at least another month."

Bucky couldn't miss the disappointed lilt her voice now had, or the way her lips were now quirked into a frown as she brought the plates to the table and sat down. Steve and Bucky shared a look before following suit, sitting on either side of her at the round table. "So, what will you do now?"

Vivian shrugged half-heartedly. "I'm not sure yet. I've still gotta figure that out. I need to stay in New York until then, but I don't exactly know what to do for a month while I wait for him to turn up."

"You can stay here."

It was, surprisingly, Steve who had just made the offer. It wasn't exactly surprising that Steve was trying to help her, because that was actually a rather Steve thing to do. It was more so the fact that he was offering her a place in _his_ home after being so wary of it the night before. Vivian and Bucky both gave him shocked looks, to which he replied, "Well, now that I'm pretty sure you aren't tryin' anything, I think its fine. At least until you find somewhere else to stay."

Vivian's look only turned to one of confusion while Bucky gave Steve an exasperated look. "What do you mean?"

Steve looked between the two of them, trying to figure out what he had said, before realization dawned on him and his face immediately turned a few shades redder. "Oh, no, I didn't mean… I'm sorry, Vivian. I was just trying to say—"

"He was just trying to say that you're welcome here, if you need a place to say," Bucky interrupted, and Steve shot him a thankful look.

Vivian, however, was still rather confused. "But I don't understand what you meant…" She looked between the boys, her expression still one of confusion until she focused on Steve's eyes for a minute, appearing to stare directly into his soul for a heartbeat, and her expression morphed into one of surprise. "Oh! Oh. You thought…" and she was looking between the two of them again, all three of their expressions holding some level of embarrassment. "I see. Well, I don't really blame you, I suppose, but no. I'm not trying to scam you or anything. But if you're uncomfortable with me staying here, I completely understand. I don't want to impose anyway, and I know it's really not the most proper thing—"

"No," Steve interrupted her with a surprising fierceness. "We've already established that you don't exactly have any other options at the moment, so you can stay here until you find something else. It's not a big deal." At this, Steve shrugged, feigning nonchalance as he began to shovel scrambled eggs into his mouth. "Besides," he said, finally able to look Vivian in the eye again. "Buck's leaving in a week or so anyway. It's too much space for just me."

At that, Vivian's gaze softened, and she turned her focus on Bucky. "And are you okay with this?"

Bucky shrugged, taking a break in inhaling his pancakes to answer her. "Sure, doll. I'd rather you be here than homeless. Besides," he said, giving her his best mischievous smirk, "if I can't use my bed for a month, I'd rather a pretty girl still got some use out of it."

Vivian snorted, but apparently chose not to comment further on that particular thought. "Well, that's a relief. Looks like my day is starting to look up. Thank you boys," she said, her tone suddenly turning serious as she looked at them each in turn. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Bucky shrugged again, offering her a, "'s no big deal" and continuing to shovel food into his mouth.

Steve, on the other hand, tried to keep a polite conversation going and asked Vivian what had been so wrong with her day so far.

Vivian groaned loudly and rolled her eyes. Bucky had to stifle a chuckle at the sight. "Oh, just a lot of rude people, honestly. I don't know how you deal with it."

Steve laughed, telling her, "We're from here. It comes with the territory."

Bucky, on the other hand, remembered something that he had been meaning to ask her. "Oh, that's right!" he interjected, sitting up straighter in his chair and facing Vivian with curious blue eyes. "I ran into Mrs. Peterson this morning. You seem to have left quite the impression on her."

Steve immediately chuckled, being well aware of Mrs. Peterson's antics. Vivian, on the other hand, was confused. Her brows furrowed and she paused, strip of bacon partway to her lips when she asked, "Who?"

"You know," Bucky said, grabbing a strip of bacon of his own. "Ancient, little old lady. Likes to tell you exactly what she thinks of you and where you'll go for it."

"Ugh," Vivian said, rolling her eyes dramatically and slouching in her chair, the mere thought of Bucky's neighbor apparently enough to drain her. "That woman. Yeah, we met. She was a delight."

Steve laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure that's exactly what you think. What happened?"

Bucky and Steve continued eating, but were now watching Vivian expectantly, awaiting her answer as she waved a hand dismissively. "Oh you know. I'm a harlot, _his_ harlot, I suppose I should say," she elaborated, jabbing a piece of bacon in Bucky's direction accusingly. He merely grinned in response. "She felt the need to remind me that You Know Who is watching," this time, she pointed her bacon up towards the ceiling, "and that I should be ashamed of myself."

"And?" Bucky pressed.

Vivian raised a brow. "And what?"

Bucky rolled his eyes while Steve answered. "And what did _you_ say to that?"

Vivian shrugged nonchalantly, and if Bucky wasn't mistaken, he thought he detected a light blush now covering her cheeks. "Nothing really."

Bucky scoffed. "Now I don't buy that for a second. I know you well enough in the whole two days we've been acquainted to know that ain't somethin' you'd just take. Out with it."

Vivian sighed dramatically, her eyes rolling skyward. "Well, if you must know, I basically implied that I _did_ in fact hope that God was watching, and that he enjoyed himself as much as I did."

Whatever the boys had been expecting, it wasn't that, as was indicated by Bucky chocking on the piece of bacon he had been chewing and Steve sputtering into his coffee. After they had collected themselves, Bucky and Steve shared a glance before turning to look at Vivian, who was steadfastly attempting to remain impassive as her gaze flickered between both of them, Bucky's eyes wide and almost awestruck while Steve's face had taken on an alarming shade of red and he appeared to be struggling to look her directly in the eye. After only a moment, however, they both burst out laughing.

Vivian rolled her eyes, returning to her meal, though she could do nothing to suppress the slight smirk that she wore.

"Good lord, Viv," Bucky said, leaning forward in his chair, one hand clutching his stomach and the other the back of Vivian's chair for support. "Between Mrs. Peterson and Dot all of Brooklyn will think we've been carrying on inappropriately."

Vivian snorted. "I think your reputation will survive, Casanova."

"But Mrs. Peterson might not if you stick around, Vivian," Steve quipped.

"I _knew_ there was a good reason to keep you around," Bucky declared, winking at Vivian.

Yes, Bucky was probably an idiot for inviting Vivian to stay with them, but he somehow doubted that he would ever come to regret his decision. She most definitely wasn't like any other girl that he had ever met, and he found that he enjoyed that immensely. Even if he did only get to experience it for a week, he knew it was worth it.

* * *

The day progressed without much fanfare after that. After they had finished breakfast, the boys had insisted on giving her a more full tour of their apartment, something Vivian felt was a little unnecessary at that point. But they had wanted to make her feel as at-home as possible, and she couldn't fault them for that. In the afternoon, they had taken her out to show her around Brooklyn, telling her the best places to go and the important places to stay away from. For the most part, she spent the day listening to Steve and Bucky bicker or tell funny stories about some of their excursions, many of them aimed at making the other of the two embarrassed.

Vivian found that she was feeling much better than she had been after receiving her disappointing news that morning, and she was beyond grateful to her two new friends for everything that they had done for her. Yet, she also couldn't ignore the surreal feeling it all left her with, and the ever present fear that she was making a huge mistake that could severely damage the timeline.

She sighed heavily, dropping her head back to rest against the back of the couch. She was now back inside Bucky and Steve's apartment, curled up on their couch with a borrowed book from Steve. _A Farewell to Arms_. Vivian's inner literature snob was practically swooning as she held a first edition copy of one of her favorite author's works. But even Ernest Hemmingway was unable to distract her from her situation for long. In fact, it was perhaps an even greater reminder that she was not in her time, where she had a reasonable understanding of the world and had friends to rely on. Here, in 1943's Brooklyn, she was just another girl struggling to make it out alive. Or at least she would be, if not for Captain America and the Winter Soldier treating her with a surprising amount of kindness and opening their home to her.

And that was part of the problem. These men, kind as they were to her, would go on to play very important roles in the coming years—several decades worth, actually. She knew their stories, knew that they would go on to live an unnaturally long life, hardly aging a day. She knew that those years would not be happily spent, one frozen in a block of ice in the ocean while everyone he knew aged and died, the other being inhumanely tortured and crafted into a weapon used to kill an unknown number of innocent people, his history erased from even his own mind.

They had no idea the sacrifices they would make that would help shape a better world for everyone else. Nor did they know that their futures held an unbelievable amount of death and destruction, one trying to save the world from it, the other unwillingly causing it. But Vivian did, and as the past (her current present) and the future (her previous reality) clashed around her, she couldn't help the nauseous feeling in her stomach or the aggressive pounding of her head.

But maybe that was why she had decided to take Steve up on his offer to stay with him after (and before) Bucky left, other than the obvious fact that it was her easiest and safest option. She was a masochist, she supposed; knowing that putting herself in a situation to be close to either of them would likely end poorly, but she couldn't help but feel drawn to them and the shit storm that would shortly become their lives. Maybe it was the part of her soul that loved history and had always wanted to be a part of it. But more likely, Vivian had found herself surprised by how easy and _nice_ it was to be around Bucky and Steve. She didn't make a lot of friends even in the 21st century with her blunt and, at times, abrasive nature, but both of the boys took it all in stride, seeming to actually like her all the more because of it. She couldn't deny that it felt good to be liked, even if she knew that staying with them had the potential to change some rather important parts of their lives, therefore jeopardizing her mission… as well as the timeline that she came from.

However, there was also the fact that Captain America basically took out most of Hydra's bases single-handedly. If it would become necessary for Vivian to go deeper than just Dr. Erskine, particularly after his death in just 3 months' time, the ability to simply follow Steve would be a blessing.

But that was the problem with time travel. Vivian had gone back to try to prevent something terrible from happening in her time, but one wrong move would could cause countless other problems in its stead. Yet she was still required to change _some_ things in order to make the necessary adjustments, and there was no guide to tell her which choices she made would save her and her kind and which could plunge the world into chaos.

Her perturbing thoughts only worsening her headache, Vivian pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. If day 2 of her mission was this bad, she didn't know how she was going to survive the next several hundred.

"You okay there, doll?"

Oh, and there was one of her problems now. Spectacular.

Cracking one eye open to peer up at Bucky, who was currently towering above her, staring at her with an expression that was a strange mix of amusement and concern, she forced a smile on her face. "Yeah. Just a lot on my mind."

As Bucky sat down next to her on the small couch, she saw Steve head to his room from the front door, only pausing to offer her a small smile and a quiet, "'Night, Vivian." She bade him goodnight as well before turning her attention to Bucky, who was apparently content just to stare at her, an admittedly impressive poker face in place.

She raised an eyebrow at him in question, but chose not to comment on it just yet. "Did you have a nice night at the dance hall?" she asked him, stifling the grimace she felt the need to make in response to saying 'dance hall' aloud, the term feeling strange and foreign on her tongue.

Bucky hesitated for a moment before allowing a smug smile to slip through his stony façade. "Yeah, we had a swell time. Steve didn't dance, of course, but he never does." He shrugged before crossing his arms behind his head and leaning back into the worn couch, simultaneously shooting her a pointed look. "Wish you had come though. Definitely would have had a better time then."

Vivian rolled her eyes when he shot her a flirtatious wink. "Yeah, yeah. Cool it, Casanova. You already talked me into living with you, no need to push your luck."

Bucky laughed. "Usually it would go the other way around, wouldn't it? I talk a pretty dame into goin' dancing with me and _then_ I get her to stay in my bed."

Vivian sent him a dubious look at that. "You this forward with all the girls?"

If Vivian wasn't mistaken, she could have sworn Bucky's usual cocky smile turned a touch more affectionate in that moment. "No, not at all. But you aren't like most girls, Viv. You give as good as you get." And though Vivian only smiled at him in response, admittedly liking his description of her, he appeared to suddenly be concerned that she was actually upset as his eyes widened minutely and he rushed to say, "But if I'm making you uncomfortable, you just gotta tell me. Especially since you'll be around a lot, I don't want—"

She cut him off with an indelicate snort and a roll of her eyes. "Bucky, please. If I were the type to be put off by your innuendos, I would've never agreed to stay with two men I hardly know, now would I?"

At that, Bucky's usual easy grin returned. "Well, when you put it like that…" But then his grin was suddenly fading again, his eyes turning serious once more and he turned to face her more fully, his hands falling from behind his head to rest, clasped together, between his knees that were nearly flush against Vivian's thigh now. She tried to not let his suddenly much closer proximity fluster her, but she knew that she was doomed to fail in that regard. Bucky was undeniably handsome in his pre-assassin days, when he was well-groomed and had an infectious liveliness in his bright blue eyes. But Vivian wasn't here to start an inappropriate relationship with a war hero, so she ignored the rush of warmth that spread through her with his presence at her side and his sudden attention on her face, instead swallowing thickly and turning her eyes away from the gorgeous man beside her to focus on her own hands that were still clenched around her book.

But Bucky had apparently moved past being worried about making her uncomfortable. His hand unexpectedly shot out to gently cover her right hand, causing Vivian to snap her attention back to him with wide eyes. If he noticed the way she stiffened when his hand came into contact with hers, he didn't comment on it. "Listen, I really am grateful that you agreed to stay here. I know it's not what most would consider… appropriate and that you might not always be treated too kindly because of it. But … I'm still glad you are."

Vivian's unease quickly gave way to confusion. "Are you… thanking… _me_ for staying in _your_ apartment?" When he merely nodded in response, she shook her head. "I don't understand."

Bucky sighed heavily in what was likely an uncharacteristic display of seriousness, dropping her hand and leaning back away from her once more. Vivian ignored the way her body seemed to drop several degrees once he was no longer touching her. "It's just that I worry about Steve, you know?"

But Vivian didn't know, as displayed by her cocking her head to the side and giving him an incredulous look. "I'm not following."

Bucky huffed before leaning forward once more, glancing over his shoulder once in the direction of Steve's door before locking eyes with her. "Look, I know Steve can handle himself, I do," Bucky started, his voice suddenly hushed as though he didn't want Steve to be privy to what he was about to say. "But I'm all he's got now. We've been together for as long as I care to remember, and we've always had each other's backs. But now I'm leaving, and he can't follow this time, and I think that doesn't sit well with him. And honestly, I'm relieved." Again, his heated gaze shifted from her to Steve's room for all of a second before returning. "But that doesn't mean I don't feel bad for leaving him behind, and it doesn't mean I won't worry about him. Does that make sense?" he asked her finally, blue eyes seeming to plead with her to simply agree so that this conversation could end as he stared at her intently, his face only a foot away from hers now.

However, Vivian didn't really think that it _did_ make sense. "So you want me to look after him?" When Bucky nodded, Vivian's already confused face turned even more incredulous. "But you hardly know me. Why are you trusting your best friend's wellbeing to a random girl you met on the street a few weeks ago?"

Now Bucky was shaking his head. "I'm not really asking you to take care of him or anything. I just think that he needs _someone_ around or I'm afraid he'll get himself into trouble."

Vivian's brows raised at that. "And you think _I'm_ the person to keep him out of trouble?"

Bucky smirked at that. "Well, no. I guess not. But I think that you'll at least make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

Vivian's doubtful look didn't fade. "And what makes you think that?"

Bucky shrugged, but his gaze didn't stray from her eyes. "You've already tried to help him once."

She scoffed at the memory. "Oh, you mean when he was trying to save _me_?"

Bucky, in contrast, seemed amused at the reminder. "Yeah. But Steve told me that you tried to help him up when you got away for a second. A lot of people would've left him behind. But you didn't."

"Okay, so I'm not a completely terrible human being. That doesn't mean that you should trust me to look after him while you're gone. And I don't think Steve would take to well to that either," she countered.

Bucky laughed at that, though it was rather half-hearted. "Yeah, I know. But that's why I'm not asking you to take care of him. I'm not sayin' that I want you to clean up after him, make sure he's eating, or anything like that. He's an adult, and he can take care of himself. But I still… I just don't want him to be alone, I guess, and there's really no one else to ask. It's like… I know that he'll be okay without me, but I'm still going to worry." When Vivian continued to only look at him blankly, his brows furrowed and he asked. "Don't you have someone like that? Someone that you're going to worry about no matter what?"

At that, Vivian frowned. Thoughts of Kitty, her closest confidante in all of her time with at Xavier's school, someone she always relied on to get her through any situation, and how lost she was feeling now without her. Maybe she did understand after all.

After a reluctant nod, she felt the need to ask one more question. "Okay. But why are you telling me all of this? I know we hardly know each other, Bucky, but you don't strike me as the type to have a serious conversation like this often, let alone with someone you just met."

Bucky's smirk made a comeback then, albeit a weak one. "That's the thing, doll. I feel like I do know you, and I know that since you're stickin' around, you'd look after Steve anyway."

Vivian couldn't help the small smile that made its way to her face, but she still rolled her eyes. "So what was the point of this conversation then, if you knew I was going to do what you wanted anyway?"

Now Bucky was leaning back away from her again, the serious portion of their night apparently over as indicated by his ever-strengthening grin. "Just wanted you to know, is all."

Vivian cocked an eyebrow at him. "Wanted me to know that you're expecting me, someone that you know absolutely nothing about, to make sure your best friend doesn't get himself killed while you're fighting a war? Duly noted."

Though Vivian thought she saw Bucky's eyes darken a bit at the mention of his near future, it quickly passed. "I know plenty about you, doll. You're not as mysterious as you think."

Vivian let out a surprised laugh at that. "Oh, yeah?" she challenged him, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes playfully. "Then go ahead, Bucky. Tell me what you know."

Bucky's grin turned wicked, apparently liking the challenge. "I know you're not from around here," he started, and Vivian scoffed, rolling her eyes. But he wasn't nearly finished, leaning forward ever so slowly as he continued, playful blue eyes locked with wide gray ones the whole time. "I know that you don't take shit from anyone. I know that you're a fighter, and I know that you have a compassion for people that you hide behind all of your wit and humor." When Vivian opened her mouth to protest, Bucky stopped her with a single finger to her lip, ceasing any possible response that was about to escape her mouth as heat flooded her from the point of contact. She blinked at him in bewilderment as he carried on, telling her, "Oh, I'm not saying that I think that's a bad thing, or that I think it's forced. That's who you are, Viv, and I like that. A lot. But I do think that it makes it hard for people to see past all of your attitude and realize that you care about everything more than you let on."

Vivian swallowed thickly and it took her a moment to find her voice, though that likely had to do with the fact that Bucky had slowly dragged his finger down her lip so that she could speak only moments ago. "But you think you do, huh, Buck?"

Bucky chuckled at that, leaning in even closer and cupping her chin. "I do."

Vivian smiled at him then, and she hoped it wasn't as shaky as she felt it was. She may have been a woman from the 21st century, but that certainly didn't mean she wasn't prey to James Buchanan Barnes's charm. "You're a lot more perceptive than you let on, Bucky Barnes. I'll give you that. Suave, too. I bet all of the girls love it."

Bucky's grin widened and his heated gaze remained locked with hers for a moment longer before he released her chin and scooted away once more. As he gave her some space, Vivian strangely felt like she was finally able to breathe after nearly drowning, yet she still had a burning desire to dive back into the water and revel in the way it stole her breath. "No complaints so far. I think I would've been a detective in another life. But does that mean I'm right?"

Vivian's weak smile turned a bit sad as she all but whispered, "You never know. You may still be able to." But the problem was Vivian did, in fact, know that he would never have that chance. Clearing her throat, she tried to banish any thoughts of his future from her mind. "You'd be pretty good at it, but you're still missing quite a few pieces."

Bucky gave her an incredulous look. "Damn, doll. I've only known you what, two days? You've gotta give me more time to get the whole picture."

At the mention of another challenge, Vivian's grin widened and turned more predatory. "Oh, so you think that you'll be able to figure me all out?"

Bucky's wicked smirk matched hers and he leaned closer once more. "Just give me some time, beautiful, and I'll find out exactly what it is that makes Vivian Grant who she is." And he didn't stop leaning, and for a brief, wild moment Vivian actually thought that he was about to kiss her, and she was alarmed by the thought, yet still somehow found herself craving it. But it would appear her inner panic was unwarranted, as he instead leaned in to whisper a raspy, "Goodnight, doll," in her ear before he stood up and went to Steve's room without further ado.

Vivian blinked rapidly, staring at his retreating form even after he had closed the door behind him. She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat and ran a shaky hand through her hair, trying to process everything that had just happened. The conversation had done a complete 180 in what felt like seconds and Vivian was left reeling from such an intense encounter with a man she knew she should really be staying away from but couldn't deny the ridiculous pull she felt to him.

She sighed in frustration before collecting her book and heading to Bucky's room, now more than ever certain that he was going to present several problems for her during her mission. But she still couldn't rid herself of the small smile that seemed to now be permanently etched on her face.

Yes, Bucky Barnes was undoubtedly trouble, but since when was Vivian Grant afraid of getting into a bit of trouble?

 **A/N: Okay, I would like to start by apologizing for the ridiculously long wait you guys had, if you're even still following this. School, health problems, and just a general lack of motivation made it difficult for me to continue. But, I'm back now with a newfound motivation and several new ideas for the story! So hopefully updates should be more regular, with one chapter every week or two.**

 **But I hope I made up for the wait with an extra long chapter. This really could have been two, but I felt that if I split it there would be a sad lack of Bucky and Vivian interaction, and we don't want that (I hope). Speaking of which, I'm not entirely sure that I'm pleased with how this chapter turned out, particularly the last part. But what did you guys think? I'd definitely like any insight into what you think I'm doing right or wrong and how you want Bucky to be portrayed.**

 **Another thing I would like to know is how you feel about the rating. I had originally had it at T, but after I was a little more liberal with the cursing that I meant to be, I changed it to M. However, if more of you would prefer that I just tone it down, I can change it back. Otherwise, I'll keep it the same and there** _ **may**_ **be a chance for more sexual content down the line (nothing explicit, of course). I'd like to know what you guys want, considering I'm writing this for your enjoyment after all.**

 **Anyway, I apologize for the long chapter and the long author's note, but if you have a second I would love it if you could review with your thoughts. I love hearing from you guys!**


	5. Rule 5: Don't Dance with War Heroes

The sound of rattling chains, dull thumping, and soft grunts filled the small, otherwise empty gym that Bucky typically trained at. Though at this moment, it wasn't Bucky Barnes that was taking out his frustrations on the large punching bag that was stationed in the far right corner, but his recently acquired roommate, Vivian Grant.

It had now been nine days since Vivian found herself back in 1943. Eight days since she discovered that it would be another month before she would be able to make contact with Dr. Erskine, which meant that she would have to wait to start her mission to find and destroy any information that he, and therefore Hydra, had about mutants.

The lack of action was slowly driving Vivian insane. Sitting around and waiting was never something that she enjoyed, and she had very little to actually do in 1943's Brooklyn. This meant that she was both bored and floundering to adjust to her new life in a time before the internet and cell phones. It also meant that she found herself relying on Bucky and Steve much more than she would have liked.

Not that the boys complained. After the initial distrust and awkwardness, both boys had welcomed her into their lives with open arms. She normally tried to just stay out of the way in their small apartment, but sometimes Steve would take her to some of his art classes and others Bucky would have her tag along to his boxing practice and matches. They had even all gone out together, showing Vivian everything they could in their hometown. It was all much more than Vivian had expected or thought she deserved. She tried to help them out in return, but there honestly wasn't much she was able to do.

She had considered getting a job; it wasn't as though she was unused to work and she wasn't even unwilling to do so either. But she had decided that it would be unwise to interact with more people than necessary in an everyday setting, not to mention that she would also (ideally) be leaving with Dr. Erskine in a month to begin her mission. This left her with little options to support herself—which she wasn't, actually.

She had reprised the role of the thieving mutant that she had left behind so many years ago: taking clothes from stores by making sure the clerk was looking the other way as she left, making the nice grocery boy think she had already paid for her items as he checked her out, etc. She told herself that things were different now—she was ultimately doing this for the greater good, and she wasn't stealing money directly from people either. But it didn't mean that she didn't feel bad about it. Though that was actually the worst part, because while she did still feel a slight twinge of guilt each time she abused her mutation, it was getting noticeably easier and less upsetting each time she did so. She feared that she would eventually find herself lapsing back into the girl who didn't care about how she used others as long as it meant her survival.

Which is why she was here, pounding out her frustrations in the only form of training she could achieve in this time. She felt guilty for stealing from the innocent and unsuspecting, dirty for taking advantage of nearly everyone she came into contact with here, ashamed because even the only two people who were helping her willingly, she was tricking and lying to, even if she was doing so without her powers. She had come to feel as though Bucky and Steve were truly her friends in the past week she had been with them, and she had done nothing but deceive them in return.

That thought caused Vivian to jab at the punching bag with her right fist a little harder than she had before.

 _It was for the best._

Another hit that caused the knuckles on her wrapped left hand to sting.

 _She had to do this. For her friends in the future. For herself._

Two quick jabs to the right. One to the left.

 _Sometimes you have to lie and deceive to do what's right. Good and bad isn't black and white._

She barked out a laugh before jumping up slightly and kicking at the punching bag with her right leg.

 _You just have to continue to lie to everyone you come into contact with for another year and a half. No big deal._

She gritted her teeth. Being an undercover agent was much harder on the psyche that Vivian had anticipated—especially when the only person who you could rely on or who even knew about the mission was yourself.

With a frustrated growl, Vivian punched at the bag a few more times in quick succession, the force of her fist increasing with each jab. She had just landed a particularly violent hit with her left hand when she heard a shrill whistle.

"Easy there doll. Only got one punching bag here, and you're giving it a harder workout than half the guys that train here."

Vivian rolled her eyes and stifled a groan.

 _Great. Just what she needed. The biggest source of guilt that she had._

Pushing that thought aside, Vivian followed through with her last swing before she stopped, grasping the bag with both hands and leaning against it, panting heavily. Her forehead was now resting against the rough, red material of the bag, but she tilted her head to the side to see Bucky approaching her from the left, his normal cocky smile in place. She couldn't resist the tiny grin she sent him in return.

"Sorry, Casanova. Didn't mean to make you feel inadequate."

Bucky chuckled and came to rest about three feet from her, leaning back against the ring situated in the middle of the room. "Nah, I'm secure enough with my masculinity to admit that I'm impressed. Though, I gotta say it does make me a little curious as well."

Vivian's previously easy smile tensed a bit. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

Bucky shrugged, appearing to be very casual about this whole encounter. But Vivian had gotten to know Bucky fairly well over the past week, and the intensity of his blue eyes gave him away. "'S just that I don't know many girls that can throw a punch like that."

Vivian threw him a crooked grin. "Are you implying that you know any other girls that can? I would have assumed that I was the only one."

Bucky's mouth quirked up as well. "I was being generous." For a moment, they both simply stared at each other, Vivian catching her breath and Bucky smirking at her in amusement. That moment was short lived. "So, are you gonna tell me where you learned how to fight or not?"

Ah, there it was. The question that Steve had been carefully tiptoeing around, Bucky had been somewhat tactfully prodding at, and Vivian had been studiously avoiding. _Who was she?_

She could see it in the slight indention between his furrowed brows and his contemplative gaze. She could read it in his thoughts even easier.

 _A pretty girl like her alone in Brooklyn; no friends, no money, but a serious ability to kick ass when needed… Who the hell_ is _she and why is she here now?_

Unfortunately, despite the slight flattery his thoughts caused, it wasn't a question that Vivian could answer any more than she already had—not truthfully, anyway. And Bucky seemed to have a tendency to see right through her. So she did what she always did when the blue eyed future-assassin asked her about herself… and deflected the question. After a brief moment of tense hesitation, she forced a teasing smile on her face and quipped, "I thought you were planning on finding that out for yourself."

And, as always, Bucky allowed her to do so, though she did not doubt that her tense posture didn't escape his notice. He was, after all, one of the most observant non-mutants that Vivian had ever met. It made sense that he would go on to be a remarkably successful sniper in the following months. Not to mention the crazy shit he would pull in the coming decades.

Vivian repressed a shudder of a strange combination of fear, disgust, and sorrow at the thought.

She attempted to fight off the swell of nausea that accompanied the mere thought of what Bucky's future held when he stepped towards her, charming grin in place once more. His eyes roamed her figure from head to toe, and Vivian was suddenly reminded that she was wearing a tight pair of men's sweatpants and an ill-fitting white undershirt, now clinging to her sweat dampened body. Vivian would hardly be fazed normally—she had, after all, worn remarkably more revealing outfits with pride before (including her X-Man uniform, which she had to admit she missed); however, she was well aware that women in the 1940s didn't typically go traipsing about dressed as she was currently.

But if Bucky found her choice of attire to be inappropriate, he didn't comment upon it. Vivian suspected it would take a lot more to faze a natural flirt like Bucky Barnes.

"Well, that _is_ the plan, but I wouldn't mind a little help."

Vivian smirked. Now this was something she could handle. She and Bucky had a natural report that worked well for both of them. The thinly vailed flirting always served to distract Vivian from the pressures of her job and stress that lying constantly brought her—she didn't have to think. She just had to act. And so she, as she always did around Bucky it seemed, didn't hesitate to think about right or wrong and did the first thing that came to mind.

She stepped forward—and swung at him.

Bucky was, reasonably so, shocked by the turn of events if the widening of his eyes and sudden, panicked thought of " _WHAT the hell is she doing?"_ was anything to go by. However, at this juncture in their conversation, they were about a yard apart and Bucky was a (semi) professional boxer. The hit didn't really have a hope of connecting with the jaw she was aiming for.

Not that she minded, Vivian thought as Bucky deflected the blow, twisting his arm to capture hers in his hand before spinning them around and slamming her back into the pillar he had casually been leaning against only seconds prior. She didn't even mind that her breath was suddenly ripped from her chest at the contact, or that Bucky had instinctually moved his forearm to press roughly against her chest in an attempt to hold her in place.

 _No_ , she thought, chest heaving as she looked up at Bucky's face, now only inches from her own. She could feel his breath breaking across her face, stirring the stray hairs, come loose from her bun and now plastered to her forehead in sweat, and feel the strength of almost every muscle in his arm and torso as they pressed almost indecently against her. _I rather like this position._

She grinned up at his still shocked expression in a nearly predatory way. "Now why would I do that when it's more fun to watch you puzzle it out on your own?"

Bucky blinked slowly, apparently still trying to come to terms with the fact that a _woman_ had just attacked his without warning in his own gym. And that she had actually almost hit him. However, Bucky was naturally resilient, especially when it came to the opposite sex. So his hesitation was short lived.

"Be careful there, doll. You can't just attack anyone, you know. Someone could actually hurt you," he replied easily, trademark smirk back in place at last. If Vivian had expected that he would find issue with their compromising position, given the time period and her lack of appropriate attire and manners, she was sorely mistaken as his firm grip on her arm never faltered, nor did the arm he still had braced across her rather generous bust. In fact, Vivian was still struggling to breath, which she dutifully ignored in favor of continuing their banter.

"Well, that _was_ the idea Mr. Barnes, though I doubt you could hurt me."

Bucky raised a brow at that. "I'll admit that I've never hit a woman before, but then again, one's never tried to hit _me_. If you keep it up, I may have no choice but to restrain you at the least."

A breathy chuckle escaped her lips as she leaned even closer to him, leaving their noses only inches apart. She saw Bucky's jaw clench in a conscious effort to refrain from backing away. She could read the desire to best her in this little standoff of theirs in his eyes and could hear it in his mind, and the flicker of excitement did not go unnoticed by her either. Vivian Grant was never one to back down though.

She looked up at him through her lashes, her gaze almost seductive if it weren't for the shit-eating grin on her face. "Well," she purred, "you can try. But I doubt you'll have much success in such an endeavor."

Bucky couldn't contain the laugh that escaped him at her teasing. "Oh really? Don't get me wrong, I like a gal with confidence, but we both know—"

Vivian choose that brief moment of distraction to turn the tides of their playful competition in her favor. With a burst of speed that Bucky clearly didn't believe her capable of, Vivian brought the hand that wasn't restrained up and used her palm to hit him in the throat with enough strength to cause him to choke on his own words, but not enough to do any real damage. While the grip on her wrist didn't falter, but rather tightened in his surprise, he did reel back from her, subsequently removing his arm from her chest. With her newfound space, Vivian spun around, her back now nearly flush with his heaving chest, and elbowed him in the ribs before he could regain his hold on her. As he doubled over, clutching his abdomen in more surprise than pain, Vivian twisted the wrist still in Bucky's grip to grasp at his forearm, and promptly bent at the knees and flung him over her shoulder. What she failed to anticipate though, was his substantial weight difference, which caused her to follow him to the ground where she found herself sprawled rather ungracefully across his chest.

She didn't let herself be put out by this minor failure though. She merely clambered to confine Bucky's wrists to his side by pressing her knees roughly against his forearms, effectively pinning them to the ground. This also meant that she was now straddling his thighs, but she choose to ignore this as well.

She placed her fists on her hips and looked down at Bucky's flushed and shocked face imperiously. "Now, what was it you were saying we both know, Bucky dear?"

Bucky blinked once. Twice. Once more.

Vivian feared he would never recover and was just beginning to consider giving him a mental push before things got too awkward when the most beautiful smile she had ever seen spread across his face.

"Well, doll, I stand corrected. You're definitely more… _skilled_ than I thought. But then again, I never expected a girl like you to come on so hard."

This gave her pause. "Uh… what?" she asked unintelligently, gray eyes blinking owlishly.

Bucky chuckled lowly, and from Vivian's position across his prone body she could practically feel it vibrate through her being. She tried, rather unsuccessfully, to hide the blush that this action (or rather, her _reaction_ to said action) caused.

Bucky's previously cheerful smile turned into a lecherous smirk, sending Vivian's mind reeling at the rapidly changing emotions he was showing. "Well, I don't know about you, but when a woman tackles me to the ground and straddles me, all while flirting with me might I add, I kind of assume she has an objective of the…" he paused, seeming to think about the right word to use as he leaned up to press his face closer to her own, " _romantic_ kind, don't you?"

His words had the desired effect on the slender redhead. She leapt off of him as if burned, previous confidence lost as she became a red-faced, fumbling mess. "That is _not_ what I was doing," she protested once she was finally upright, pressing her hands against her shirt to straighten it as well as hide the slight tremble that now racked them in her embarrassment. "You were being a misogynistic ass and I proved you wrong. I was hardly trying to seduce you!"

Bucky sighed, rolling his eyes. "Oh how quickly you dismiss our love."

Vivian huffed, rolling her eyes as well before turning on her heel and striding across the room to gather her bag. She heard Bucky get up off his position on the ground to follow her as she began to unravel the bandages on her knuckles.

"I didn't mean it like that, you know."

She hurriedly stuffed the wraps into her bag, hiking it up on her shoulder before turning and quirking an eyebrow at him. "Didn't mean what?"

Bucky, she noted, had an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. One that gave her pause and a brief desire to delve into his mind to find out just what it was he was thinking. But he saved her the trouble.

"When I implied you couldn't handle yourself in a fight. Clearly I was wrong."

Vivian, despite her minor annoyance with him previously, found herself smirking slightly in response. "Yeah, clearly you were."

She turned her back on him again to stride out of the gym, confident that he would follow. Which he did.

"It's not that I think that girls can't fight or nothin'. It's just that, you know, I've never _met_ one who can. Especially not someone as uh, pretty or smart or… _small_ as you."

"So, just because I'm a girl and I'm not stupid or ugly you think that means I'm weak?" She didn't bother turning to look at him as she continued to walk down the street, not so much annoyed with him as the ridiculous mindsets held in this time, which were unfortunately not that rare in the 21st century either.

"No! No, that's not what I meant," Bucky rushed to deny, picking up his pace to walk at her side where he attempted to catch her eye. "I just meant, _gah_ , I meant that I just didn't expect it of ya is all. Not that it's a bad thing either! I actually think that it's real, uh, real swell that you're so… physically talented?"

Vivian abruptly slowed her pace and looked at him, her brows furrowed. And for the first time, she saw the great Bucky Barnes blush.

"That—that's not what I meant either! I meant that you're pretty strong for a girl your size, and that you seem to really know what you're, uh, doing as far as kicking someone's ass. Not that I don't think you don't know what you're doing in _that_ way though! I mean, I'm sure that you're talented in lots of ways—oh my god," Bucky abruptly cut himself off, groaning and running a hand over his still flushed face in exasperation.

Vivian barely registered it, too distracted by a sight of her handsome companion that she had never expected to see. Bucky Barnes was supposed to be smooth, calm, and collected, not a blabbering mess of a boy. And any previous interactions that she had with him seemed to support that but now…

 _Such an idiot. Now she's_ really _going to think I'm some jerk who doesn't respect women. Great going, Buck. You meet a girl that's completely different from anyone you've ever met and she's the only one you insult and act like a completely incompetent moron in front of. You went too far this time. Now she's going to insist on moving out of the apartment and she doesn't have any place to go… Maybe I can find somewhere else to say before I leave tomorrow. I'm sure she's still comfortable with Steve… He's not a massive perverted jerk._

Vivian's eyes widened comically as his thoughts flooded her mind unbidden in Bucky's inner freak-out. _He really thought…_

She frowned, stopping in front of what she vaguely recognized as Bucky's apartment building and reaching out to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. He froze instantly, but refused to meet her eye.

"It's fine, Buck," she assured softly, giving him a gentle smile. She noted in the back of her mind that this was the first time she had ever used the nickname Steve used so often. She found that she liked the way made her feel closer to him somehow. "I know what you meant and I'm not upset. I know that I'm something of a rarity, and I'm not offended that you thought what you did. I was just…embarrassed that I put us both in such an inappropriate position. Mrs. Peterson would be scandalized I'm sure."

Bucky seemed to relax at her slight teasing, finally making eye contact and smiling at her once more. "No, but now I know that you can take care of her for me, so I'm not too concerned."

Vivian let out a surprised bark of laughter. "You want me to beat up a poor old woman for you? Oh the _shame_ , James Barnes."

He merely smirked at her and shrugged. "Doesn't bother me any I suppose. _You're_ the one she's calling a harlot."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm going to hell, blah, blah, blah," she responded with a dismissive wave of her hand and a roll of her eyes as she turned around and began to ascend the stairs to the apartment.

"Wait a second, Viv!"

Vivian turned, one foot still on the next stair up, and raised a brow at him in question. "You're not coming up?"

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck and gave a weak smile. "Nah, I've got a few things I need to take care of before I leave tomorrow. But, I was wondering…"

He seemed to struggle with his next thought again as she watched him. She found it odd that someone normally so confident and suave could have so many moments of insecurity in under an hour. She found that it didn't suit him.

"Any day now, Buck," she teased with a twinkle in her eye, hoping to bring him back to himself.

It seemed to do the trick as his trademark playboy smirk adorned his face once more. "Right," he said, leaning against the railing of the stairs and looking up at her with pure mischief in his eyes. Ah, yes. The heartbreaker was back. "I convinced Steve to go to a club with me tonight, since it's the last chance I'll have to drink and impress the female population of Brooklyn with my dancing or, well, have fun at all for the next month. Wanna come?"

"Well, I'd love to," she answered with a coy smile. "But don't you think taking a lady such as myself with you on such an excursion will decrease your chances of impressing said ladies of Brooklyn?"

"Not if there's only _one_ dame in Brooklyn I want to impress," Bucky replied smoothly, and Vivian found her heart nearly skipping a beat at such a statement until he followed it with, "Besides, you'll just be Steve's date. No one will even notice you're there."

Vivian rolled her eyes and turned to continue her path to the apartment. "Goodbye Bucky."

"So is that a yes?!"

His question went ignored as Vivian slipped inside and closed the door between them.

* * *

"Ouch!"

Vivian swore under her breath, hopping up and down on one heeled foot, the other clutched in her hands. She had been bending to retrieve her other heel from where it lay on the floor of Bucky and Steve's living room, but had managed to trip on the rug and subsequently stub her toe on the dilapidated coffee table that sat in the middle of the room. She hastily bent once more to retrieve the shoe, still swearing softly all the while, and slipped it on her now irritated foot as Steve stepped out of his room, concern etched on his face. Though that concern morphed slightly into a humorous combination of embarrassed appreciation and confused concern at the sight of her.

"Uh, are—are you okay there, Viv?"

Vivian bit her bottom lip in an attempt to repress her smirk at Steve's blushing face and averted eyes. Pre-steroid Captain America was too adorable.

"Yeah, thanks Steve. Just stubbed my toe on your devil of a table," she explained, shooting the table in question some serious side-eye to convey her wishes of death upon it.

Steve laughed at that, and the tension seemed to ease. Vivian gathered that, from both his actions and the audible thoughts swirling in his blonde head, he wasn't so uncomfortable by her and her presence, as much as he was the fact that she was a woman and he generally didn't know how to act around the fairer sex. Due to his small size and unimposing presence, women tended to look down on him (literally) and ignore him, so his level of experience with women was rather limited, if not nonexistent. Over the past week or so of Vivian crashing at their apartment, he had begun to feel less intimidated and unsure, but it would seem that her appearing the way she did tonight, as more of a woman one would see at a dance club and less like the Viv he was accustomed to, had thrown him off briefly. But the appearance of Vivian's usual humor had put him back at ease.

Once Vivian had concluded her staring match with the coffee table, she looked up at Steve and let out a low whistle. "Well don't you look spiffy tonight Steve," she said with a wink, causing Steve's face to flush once more.

"Stop it," he mumbled, tugging self-consciously at his dress shirt that appeared to be a size too big for his small frame. "Y-you look gorgeous though. I didn't know you had decided to come with us."

Vivian gave Steve a sincere smile and walked over to him. "Thank you. I didn't know I was coming either until a few minutes ago, but I decided that it wouldn't hurt to have fun once in a while. You should do the same," she told him, resting a pale hand on his shoulder. She tried to meet his eye, but that was a struggle considering the now six inch or so height difference between the two. "I meant what I said, Steve. You _do_ look nice, and any girl would be crazy not to see it. In fact," she said, her voice becoming several shades lighter and more cheerful, and turned, offering Steve her arm, "Bucky suggested that we go together and I'm inclined to agree with the idiot for once."

Steve wanted to laugh, but was otherwise occupied staring at the arm to his side, bent in invitation for him to place his own through. It was no secret that he had never been on a date before, yet here was a beautiful woman in his living room offering to have him escort her (though in all honesty, there was no doubt as to who would really be doing the escorting) to go dancing. And yet, it still just didn't seem… right.

"Uh, thanks Viv, it's really nice of you to offer. But I don't want you to feel obligated, and I'm not… um, I—"

Vivian cut him off with a laugh at his flustered state. She could read very well that he had no interest in her, and it didn't offend her in the slightest. Steve's polite, even in his mind, rejection of her as a romantic partner was much more mild and comforting than many things that she had heard from other men's minds throughout her life. And the truth was, she wasn't really interested in Steve as anything more than a friend anyway. He was nice, friendly, and braver than any man should be, but she could hear the answer to her feelings bouncing around in Steve's own mind.

 _Not the right partner_.

"I understand Steve, no worries. I meant that we should go as friends," she leaned in now, eyes twinkling with mirth and spoke with him conspiratorially. "I'm just not really one for dancing, and it seems to me that Bucky's just dragging you along too. So if we stick together, no one should bother us, right?"

Vivian's mischievous nature, so similar to that of his best friend's that it was amusing, put him at ease once more and he smiled at her, slipping his arm through hers. And despite the fact that a woman was once again looking down at him and rejecting the idea that they would ever have a relationship outside the platonic, for the first time it didn't feel like this one was looking down _on_ him. They were equal in their newfound friendship and he found that he quite liked that.

"Sounds like a great plan to me, Miss," he teased. "But you should know that Bucky—"

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Oh, I know. He already told me."

Steve blinked in shock. "He did?"

"Oh yeah. He plans on wooing the female population of Brooklyn all in one go on his last night of freedom. Just another reason I'd prefer we stick together tonight."

Steve's previously shocked gaze turned into one of confusion and then exasperation. "Uh, no. That's not what I meant."

Vivian's brows furrowed. "It's not. Then wh— _oh._ "

Despite the fact that Vivian was a rather gifted telepath and could hear what nearly anyone is thinking at any given time, she often found that she turned a blind eye to those thoughts when she was so consumed with her own. Like right now, leading to this awkward conversation with Steve Rogers, otherwise known as Captain America, and his best friend, the Winter Soldier, future assassin extraordinaire, and his feelings for her.

Steve nodded slowly. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, 'cause Buck is my best friend and everything, but he doesn't have the best track record with women."

Vivian arched a skeptical brow at that. "That's not what I hear."

Steve rolled his eyes. "I meant he doesn't have the best record with keeping the ones he likes around. And I can tell that he actually has a genuine interest in you."

Vivian, though she had come to a similar conclusion (one which she was choosing to ignore), gave Steve a teasing smile. "And how do you know that?"

"For one, he hasn't tried to convince you to sleep with him yet," Steve deadpanned, and the fact that innocent little Steve Rogers had just implied that Bucky wanted to have sex with her had her bursting into a fit of giggles.

And that was how Bucky found them. Vivian, bent at the waist and leaning on Steve for support with one had firmly gripping his shoulder as she giggled uncontrollably, and Steve looking down at her with a fond look in his eye, laughing along with her. He smiled at the sight of his best friend having a good time with someone that wasn't him for once, but tensed only a moment later.

He closed the door behind him, but neither of his roommates seemed to notice his entrance. He strode over to the couch as casually as possible and sat his bag down on the couch, but when neither of them acknowledged his presence. He cleared his throat lightly. "So, what are you two up to?"

They stopped laughing then and looked up at him, though their smiles remained and Vivian appeared to be wiping a tear from her eye. "Oh," she said, trying to shrug it off. "Steve just told me something funny."

Bucky raised a brow at his friend in question, but Steve only smiled sheepishly at him and shrugged as well. It seemed he wasn't inclined to let him in on the joke either. _Traitor._

As Bucky was glaring at his friend, trying to will him to fess up, he noticed Vivian's eye twitch oddly in apparent annoyance out of the corner of his eyes. He quickly diverted his attention when she stepped forward, releasing her hold on Steve's shoulder and frowning at him. "Don't be mad at him. We can have our own conversations you know."

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, much the way that he had been glaring at Steve only moments prior—with no real heat or vehemence and with an underlying sense of affection that let him know that she wasn't really all that angry with him. But he noticed none of this as he took in the sight of his redheaded roommate.

She was wearing a deep blue dress that fell to just below her knees, hugging every curve along the way, and her aggressive stance only served to accentuate the generous swell of her chest that he made an uncharacteristically gentlemanly attempt at ignoring. Her auburn locks cascaded down her back with its natural kinks and waves, and she was wearing more makeup than usual, her lashes long and dark, making her gray eyes darker than usual. Her lips were painted a glossy red, and her current pout only made him want to kiss them more than usual.

He blinked, shaking himself from his less than appropriate thoughts when that made him remembered why he was irritated with his friend. "I'm not mad," he answered, but quickly changed the topic to further avoid her ire. "I thought you weren't coming tonight."

Vivian smirked then, annoyance forgotten. "I never said that. I just didn't answer. But Steve here agreed to be my escort for the evening, so I thought it would be fun after all."

She returned to her position next to his best friend and tucked her arm around his, making Steve blush faintly and avert his gaze. Bucky narrowed his eyes.

"Oh. So you're going together?"

Vivian rolled her eyes and gave him an exasperated look. "Well yeah. It was your idea after all. I'd hate to impede on your night if any of your potential victims thought I was _your_ date."

Bucky wanted to protest, but found that he couldn't as she was completely right. It _had_ been his idea, although he had posited it as a joke. Though he couldn't tell either of them that without looking like a total ass, so he just smiled tightly instead. "Well that's great! I'll just get ready, and then we can head out."

And with that, he turned and practically stalked to Steve's room to get ready, not looking at either of them as he passed.

Vivian attempted to hide a smile behind her hand, but Steve wasn't buying it if his skeptical look was anything to go by. "What?" she asked innocently.

Steve wasn't buying that either. "I meant what I was trying to say earlier you know," he informed her, leaning in and speaking in a low whisper so that their roommate wouldn't hear. "He _does_ like you, even if he doesn't say so. And even if he won't do anything about it because he's leaving tomorrow and is…" at this point, Steve visibly chocked up as he tried to talk about something they all had been avoiding. He took a deep breath, and met Vivian's eyes, his light blue ones harder than she had ever seen them before. "He's going to war, and I think that he'd like to spare both of you. But that doesn't mean he doesn't care about you, despite how little we actually _know_ about you, and I won't let you hurt him."

Vivian blinked at Steve in shock, her smile having faded completely. She had never heard Steve speak so frankly and he had never made any comments about her questionable past to her face before. And had he just…

"Are you threatening me Steve?"

Steve, to his credit, looked like he wanted to shy away, but instead hardened his resolve and told her, "Buck's my best friend, and I'll stand by him. We're friends too, Viv, but if you hurt him, that will change."

Vivian nodded solemnly, understanding where he was coming from. She had friends too, and they were all back home while she was wandering around seventy years in the past so that she could spare them all a nasty future where mutants would be known and hunted. She understood loyalty, and that's what Steve was trying to tell her. They could be friends and they could joke around with Bucky, but if she ever actually used his feelings for her to hurt him, there would be consequences. Steve, in this form, was never really intimidating, but in that moment Vivian saw a glimmer of the imposing man he would become. In fact, she was sure that even if she didn't know what he would turn into in the next few months, she would still fear what he was saying in that moment.

So she took him seriously and responded in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "I know Steve. I have no intention of hurting Bucky," she told him honestly, and met his eyes to fully convey her feelings on the matter. When he seemed to accept what she said as the truth, she smiled mischievously and leaned closer to whisper in his ear, "But that doesn't mean we can't mess with him a little, right?"

Steve's grin matched her own and she had her answer.

Bucky, once again walking in on his friends in a seemingly compromising position, knew that the night was likely not going to go the way he had planned as he ushered everyone out the door and into the warm evening air that permeated Brooklyn that night.

* * *

Vivian sipped on her drink, watching the dance floor with great interest. The 1940s dancing scene was, as one could expect, notably different than the one she was vaguely familiar with in her time. There was more clothing and less risqué touching for one. And as she watched Bucky dance from her position on the sidelines, she couldn't help but notice that he was particularly skilled at this type of dancing. It was almost enough to tempt her to ask him for a dance herself.

Almost.

Steve, who was sitting beside her at the bar, was watching his best friend dance with the redhead Vivian had met at the diner as well (Dot, she thought her name was, but she couldn't be sure). However, the look he was giving Bucky was one of happiness whereas Vivian's bordered on envious. Not that she would admit to that. Because romance was something that she couldn't afford on this mission. Especially not with a man with as awful a future ahead of them as James Buchannan Barnes. Because as much as she may want to, Vivian knew she could do nothing to change that without potentially destroying the space time continuum or some shit like that.

Vivian's hand clenched around the stem of her wine glass reflexively and she looked down at it with disdain. She was really more of a whiskey kind of girl, and she was really having some whiskey kind of thoughts, but she didn't want to seem too out of place or get too drunk in 1943. Or maybe she did, but she knew she shouldn't.

"You okay, Viv?"

Vivian looked to her left and smiled weakly at Steve, who was watching her with mild concern in his eyes. That seemed to be a trend between the two of them, though Vivian found that she didn't mind. Steve had become something of a treasure the past week that she had been here. He cared for everyone he came into contact with it would seem, and though Vivian felt bad for exploiting that trait, she welcomed it as it meant that she had found at least one friend (she wasn't thinking about Bucky and his good looks and why she couldn't have any sort of feelings for him at the moment, thank you very much) in this time. Not to mention a place to stay.

But when she looked into his genuinely kind eyes, she felt even worse. He didn't have the best future ahead of him either. They weren't even sure he was going to survive his encounter with the Winter Soldier when he left. And she couldn't imagine the kind of damage fighting a bloody war, watching your best friend die, losing the love of your life while you were frozen in ice for seventy years, and then waking up to fight aliens in New York after that would do to one's psyche.

But the world needed Captain America, so she kept her mouth shut.

"Just peachy, Steve," she replied, then tossed back the remainder of her wine like it was a shot of something a lot stronger.

Steve raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "You sure? You're sulking."

Vivian scoffed. "Me? Sulking?" When he continued to just look at her dubiously, she sighed. "Okay, yeah. Maybe a little."

Steve nodded, seemingly satisfied that he was right, and leaned back against the bar and continued to watch her out of the corner of his eye. "You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," Vivian murmured distractedly, but Bucky flipping Dot over his shoulder on the dance floor caught her eye and she decided that she wanted to give it a shot after all. Despite all past experiences with dancing telling her it was a bad idea. She just wanted to stop thinking about death and sadness and blue-eyed boys destined for both great and terrible things, and it seemed like a good enough distraction to her.

"Say Steve," she hedged, looking at him with a suddenly bright smile. "You wanna dance with me? We are on a date after all." She threw in a wink, just to mess with him.

It worked.

"I, um, I don't really dance," Steve said, suddenly flushed and unable to meet her eye.

Vivian frowned though. "Like, at all?"

Steve nodded and shrugged. "No one's ever been interested before."

Understanding flashed through her eyes, and she leaned forward and told him seriously, "But I am now."

He finally looked at her then, saw the sincerity in her eyes, and smiled. "Thanks, Viv. I really appreciate the offer, but like I said before, neither of us are really interested in being more than friends, you know? And…"

"And you want your first time to be with someone special," Vivian finished for him when it seemed he didn't know how to continue, though she said it with a more suggestive flair than Steve would have preferred. He nodded all the same.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Hey guys! How's it going?"

Vivian reeled back, noticing that Steve did the same as Bucky approached them. She hadn't realized how close they had been to be able to carry on a conversation in the loud club, and she was even less sure why she had reacted the way she did. She and Steve had been making a big deal about them being on a "date" that night just to toy with Bucky a bit anyway, but she found that being seen in a somewhat intimate position with the blonde made her feel abnormally guilty.

She turned to her left to answer and saw him standing there looking immaculate in his black slacks and blue button-up with his hair slicked back and his gorgeous eyes bright and heated, with the little redhead on his arm still. She felt her eye twitch in annoyance. God help her.

"I need another drink, I think," she said, holding up her now empty glass. She was feeling the slightest of buzzes, enough to make her feel warm and lighter inside, but if she wanted to get through the inevitable goodbyes at the end of the night as well as stop thinking about depressing shit, she needed more.

Steve, however, disagreed. "No, she doesn't," he told his friend, shaking his head and placing a hand on her arm to lower it back to the bar.

Bucky looked between the two of them, an unreadable expression on his face and dance partner apparently forgotten as her removed her arm from his and stepped forward to lean against the bar next to Vivian. "Oh?"

Vivian opened her mouth to contradict Steve's statement, but he beat her to it. "Yeah, she was actually just telling me that she wanted to dance."

Her head whipped around to give Steve a wide-eyed look of betrayal. "Excuse me?"

Bucky was looking at Steve in something akin to annoyance as well. "Then why don't you dance with her, pal? She's _your_ dateafter all."

Steve shrugged and attempted to hide his smile behind his glass as he took a drink. "You know I don't dance. Why don't you take her?"

Vivian huffed in annoyance. " _Why doesn't he take me_? What am I? An infant that needs to be babysat?"

"No," Steve rolled his eyes. "I just meant that he's more experienced than I am anyway."

Vivian continued to glare at Steve, because the last thing she needed was for him to meddle with her relationship with his friend, but Bucky was staring only at Vivian now.

"Well, do you wanna?" When she only turned to look at him in question, as if his meaning wasn't clear, he elaborated. "Dance with me, I mean?"

Now Vivian was the one blushing. "Oh, well I've never really danced before, and you seem like you've got your hands full as it is," she answered, shooting a glance at the girl who was still hovering behind Bucky's shoulder, watching the entire exchange with disapproval. "I think I'd rather stay here."

Bucky, however, decided to take this opportunity and run with it, as he was prone to do. "But you told Steve you wanted to dance, and who better to learn from than the best?"

His smile was all charm and mischief, and she found that he had never looked more handsome, but she figured that was just the booze talking and simply rolled her eyes. "The best? I don't know about that. I see plenty of guys out there that seem to be managing just fine."

But Bucky was never one to back down from a challenge. "Then let me prove it to you," he said, extending an arm for her to take.

 _Oh, what the hell_ , Vivian thought as she reached out and put her hand in his. _What's the worst that can happen? It's just a dance with a prominent historical figure that'll turn out to be the most prolific assassin of my time. You're already living with him, Vivian, it can't get any more screwed up than it already is._

Bucky grinned, and began to lead her to the dance floor with more enthusiasm than he really wanted to show. When he saw Dot watching him with wide, disbelieving and hurt eyes, he felt just a little bad. "I'll see ya later Dot!"

When they reached the dance floor, Bucky moved her left hand to his right shoulder and grabbed her other hand with his own before beginning to move in time with the music. Vivian found herself trying to focus on following his steps, but couldn't resist asking "I thought she wasn't your girlfriend?"

"She's not," Bucky replied, quickly spinning her out and back in fast enough to take Vivian's breath away. He continued moving and talking without pause, while she found herself struggling to keep up. She resisted the urge to pout childishly—it was her first time dancing like this and he knew it. He wasn't playing fair. "It's not like she's the only one I danced with tonight, you know. And _she_ asked _me_ to dance. Was I supposed to turn her down?"

Vivian looked up from their feet to shoot him an unconvinced look, her lips twisting into an amused smirk at his defensive tone. "Hey, there's no need to defend yourself to me. I was just curious is a— _oh_!" He spun her out again without warning, and Vivian had the feeling it was to punish her for her teasing.

 _Well that's fine,_ she thought. _If he wants to play games, so be it._

When he pulled her back this time, she ended up much closer to him, wither her hand and her head resting on his chest. She looked up at him through her lashes, a coy smile on her painted lips. "She seemed a little possessive of you. I'd rather not risk life and limb for just a dance with you."

Bucky scoffed and changed their pace to match the music, which had blessedly just become much slower, allowing Vivian to keep her head resting where it was and following his lead became much easier. "She shouldn't be. I'm not anyone's."

Vivian, though she already knew this, found herself stupidly pleased by this statement. She had just smiled up at him and was about to move away when Bucky pulled her closer and whispered in her ear, "But don't you think a dance with me is worth it anyway?"

She scoffed and surprised him by pulling away and putting her hands into their original positions, noticeable by the slight falter in his steps. Vivian smirked inwardly. It would take a lot more than a charming grin and some whispered words to make her fall victim to the Bucky Barnes epidemic (as she was internally calling the love half the women in this club seemed to have for the man, though Steve had gotten a kick out of it as well when she had let it slip).

"Hardly," she sniffed, and looked away. "I honestly don't see what all the fuss is about."

If she had expected him to be surprised or flustered by her less than flattering comment, she was mistaken. He merely grinned widely and more wickedly than she had ever seen and said, "Then allow me to show you, Miss."

And then they were really moving. The music had conveniently picked up at that moment, and he was spinning and twirling her across the dancefloor in perfect time to it. She had meant what she said before—he clearly was experienced and skilled at dancing. She found herself struggling to keep up, but she enjoyed it all the same. Eventually, she stopped trying to make sure she followed him correctly and just watched him instead. They both laughed and smiled and joked while they moved fluidly across the dancefloor, with the occasional spin and changing positions breaking them apart just for them to meet again, still giggling and simply enjoying each other.

She had asked for a distraction, and she had found a sufficient one. Time spent with Bucky seemed to be spent happily by demand. He had a magnetism and life to him that Vivian found herself drawn to, and all she could do was smile and move with him as if that's what they were made to do.

She lost track of how long they had been dancing, but neither of them switched partners for the remainder of the night, and eventually the band played the last song and started to pack up.

"Are you sure you've never danced before? You seemed like a natural," Bucky told her as he pulled her off the dancefloor and over to the bar where they last saw Steve.

Vivian laughed breathily, still trying to catch her breath. "Yeah, I'm sure. I guess you're just an excellent teacher."

Bucky winked at her. "Of course I am, doll. I told you I was the best."

She rolled her eyes and was about to reply scathingly when she noticed their blonde companion was missing from his seat at the bar. "Where's Steve?"

Bucky's brows furrowed and he turned to look where she was. "Ugh, _Steve_! That punk better not've gotten himself into any trouble while we were gone, or—"

"He said he went home," the bartender, who was polishing glasses as all bartenders seemed to do perpetually, said without turning to face them. "He said to tell you that he would just meet you there."

Bucky and Vivian shared one last look of concern before shrugging and leaving the club.

"I hope Steve made it back okay," Vivian said once they reached the crisp, cool air of night, taking in a deep breath and savoring it after being in the stuffy club for so long.

"Eh, I'm sure he's fine," Bucky said, though he still seemed slightly concerned. Vivian found herself smiling softly at that—Bucky was always so concerned with watching after his friend, it was rather endearing in a way. "Speaking of Steve, I hope he doesn't mind that I monopolized his date for most of the night?"

Vivian frowned and arched a brow in confusion. "What?"

Bucky looked at her out of the corner of his eye, seeming genuinely guilty. "Well, we danced over half the time we were there. I know he said it was okay if we danced, but I don't think he really meant the _whole_ night. I don't want him to be upset or anything, you know."

Vivian blinked once and then burst out laughing. When Bucky only looked at her like she was crazy, she tried to compose herself enough to speak. "O-oh, I'm sure he really didn't mind."

Bucky, however, was not convinced. "Are you sure? It's not like he goes on dates… well, ever, so I doubt he appreciated me stealing you."

"You didn't _steal_ me," Vivian said with a roll of her eyes. "It wasn't really a date."

She continued walking a few more paces before she noticed that she was no longer walking beside her blue-eyed companion. "Bucky?" she called, looking over her shoulder at him in question.

"What do you mean it wasn't a date?" He asked, looking surprisingly angry all of a sudden.

Vivian turned to face him fully, confused by his reaction. "Um, just what I said. We weren't on a date."

Bucky took a deep breath, seemingly to collect himself before he moved closer. Once he was only a foot or so in front of her he stopped, and gave her a look of complete disapproval that made her want to cry for inexplicable reasons. "Listen, it may not mean anything to you—a girl like you can get any guy you want to go on a date with her. But Steve's not like that. If you think it's okay to play with his emotions like that, I won't stand for it. He's a great guy, and if you—"

"Okay, _stop_!" Vivian spoke, finally breaking out of her shock enough to end Bucky's little rant. The cold vehemence in her was, surprisingly, enough to shut him up long enough for her to get a word in. She moved closer to him them, her eyes alight with indignant anger at what he was implying, and Bucky found himself gulping in mild fear at her reaction. "Steve and I were not on a date tonight, not because _I_ decided that it wasn't or because _he_ decided that it wasn't but because _we both_ agreed that we are just friends. We only said that it was a date because you're an ass and we wanted to mess with you! So don't act like you know what kind of _girl_ I am just because you misunderstood the situation! What does that mean anyway?! _A girl like me_? Do you really think that's what I am? A _girl_ that plays with a man's emotions and uses him to get what I want? Do you think that's why I'm staying with you?"

"Vivian, I didn't—"

"No Bucky," she said firmly, ignoring the tears that now clouded her vision. She had a feeling that she was overreacting, but regardless, the accusation that she was using Steve and playing him really did hurt her. Perhaps because it hit a little too close to home, though for different reasons than Bucky thought. "I'm sorry if I've made you think that I would hurt you or Steve that way, but I can assure you that's not the case. Just ask him if you don't believe me."

Deciding that she no longer wished to look at his stupidly perfect face anymore, Vivian spun on her heel and briskly continued their path to the apartment, because as much as she'd like to not prove Bucky right by taking advantage of their kindness, she really did have nowhere else to go. And if she were being honest with herself, she didn't want to leave them anyway.

 _Not that I have much choice_ , she thought bitterly. _Bucky will be leaving in the morning and the last conversation that we will ever have will be this stupid argument._

Just as she was cursing her temper and her habit of lashing out before thinking things through, she felt a warm hand grab her by the elbow and spin her around, and she was suddenly looking up into Bucky's cerulean blue eyes.

Bucky, for his part, was never great with women, but he knew when he messed up. He got the feeling that Vivian had taken his misplaced accusations much more to heart than he had intended, and normally he would be somewhat irritated to be yelled at in the middle of the street at night, even if he was relieved to find that Steve's feelings weren't being toyed with. But one look at her stormy gray eyes, rimmed with smeared makeup due to the few tears she had let fall in her anger, and the way she clenched her jaw and her fists as if she were ready to fight him if he said one more thing to hurt her, he just couldn't. He honestly didn't know what it was about this woman with her pretty, overly expressive eyes, abrasive attitude, and sass that captured him the way she did, but he knew that he didn't want to leave her behind with thinly veiled insults to her character as the last thing he said to her.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, pulling her closer to him in an effort to help ward off the chill of the night. He was surprised when she let him with no fuss, but took it as a good sign. "I didn't mean to imply that you are taking advantage of us, or that you're not a woman who deserves respect. I just get a little… protective of Steve, you know. I'm the only one he has to look out for him anymore, and as much as I like you, Viv, I can't let even you hurt him. But," he hurriedly corrected when she looked like she was about to interrupt, "I should have known that you wouldn't do that and just asked you what was going on instead of accusing you. I really am sorry."

They simply stood there for a few more moments, gray locked with blue in an attempt to feel each other out, before Vivian seemed to find what she was looking for. Her steely eyes softened into a look he had never seen on her before, completely devoid of any teasing or suspicion or caution, and she smiled at him. Bucky had seen dozens of girls, many of them arguably considered prettier by traditional standards, in more intimate positions in his life; yet, he found that Vivian Grant, with her mused auburn hair blowing haphazardly in the evening breeze, with her smeared make up and red-rimmed eyes, but with a genuine smile and affection in her gaze was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and for a moment he forgot how to breath while he waited for her to speak.

"I understand, Bucky. You were just protecting Steve, and we all do things that seem a little extreme to protect the ones we love. We shouldn't have teased you in the first place, and I should have just told you what was really going on instead of screaming at you in the streets. So, I'm sorry too," she said, and Bucky got the feeling that she was incredibly uncomfortable with their current situation.

"Hey," he said, returning her gentle smile with a rare one of his own and moved a strand of hair that was obscuring her vision behind her ear almost tenderly. He was almost surprised by his own actions. Affection from him was reserved almost solely for Steve, his sister, and his mother. But it seemed Vivian had been added to that list somewhere along the way, and he wasn't entirely sure how or when it happened in the short time that they had known each other, but he couldn't find it in himself to be upset by it. "It's fine. We both got upset and hurt each other. But I'd really rather we didn't let that be the way we end things here."

There was so much left unsaid by that statement.

 _Before I leave everything I know to fight a war._

 _Before I leave to maybe die alone, overseas._

 _Before I leave and come back and you're gone._

 _Before, before, before._

Anything could happen once he got on that train and left for training tomorrow, and much of it he didn't want to think about let alone discuss. But as he studied Vivian's gray eyes, taking in the flecks of blue that seemed to shift and change with her emotions, and the way that she was looking back at him, he got the feeling that she understood everything he didn't say now better than she would if he did say it. And so he said nothing.

"I understand," she confirmed, before surprising him once again by taking his hand, and turning around to tug him down the sidewalk to the apartment. "Will I see you in the morning?" she asked, her voice neutral, but the way she worried her lip between her teeth when she glanced back at him gave her away.

Bucky shook his head. They had finally reached the stairs to the apartment building, and Vivian paused to look at him before continuing up. "No, I have to be on the train at six. I thought it would be easier if I got through all of my goodbyes tonight."

Vivian, still chewing on her bottom lip nervously, nodded, but choose not to say anything further before heading up the stairs to the apartment.

Once they reached the door, Bucky put his key in the lock and let it swing open to accommodate her before entering himself. After he turned back from quietly shutting the door, he was surprised to find Vivian still standing by the couch, seemingly waiting for him. They just stood there for a moment, waiting to see what the other would say first, before Vivian finally caved.

"I wanted to just thank you. I know that not many people would take me in the way that you and Steve did, and that you are kind of crazy for doing it, but I appreciate it all the same. And I…" she paused then, taking a deep breath and seemingly steeling herself before continuing. "And I wish you the best. I think it's brave, what you're doing, and I hope that you come home safe."

Bucky found it odd, the way she looked at him in that moment. With a strange sort of foreboding fear, as if she knew something that he didn't. But he brushed it off—he was going off to fight the deadliest war in history. Of course she was afraid for him.

"No need to thank me," he said. "We're just doing what's right. Though, I do have a favor to ask of you."

Vivian seemed surprised by this, but nodded for him to continue nonetheless.

"Like I said, Steve really doesn't have anybody else, and I don't know how long you'll be around, but as long as you are could you…"

"I'll watch out for him," Vivian answered, that soft smile on her face again.

He found himself drawn to her then, as he slowly made his way cross the living room to where she stood, seemingly waiting for him. As he came to a stop in front of her, she still didn't move, just watching him with her large, stormy gray eyes. Waiting.

He reached out, and for the second time that night, brushed her hair out of her face, but this time it seemed more like a caress. More intimate. And he found that he wanted more as his gaze drifted from her eyes to her slightly parted lips and back again.

It was no secret that Bucky had been with women before, so leaning in that extra few inches should have been easy for him. But he had a feeling that kissing _this_ woman on _this_ night, when he was about to leave indefinitely, would change everything. And he couldn't do that. To either of them.

So, with one last longing look at what he knew could never be, he drew away, whispering, "Goodnight, Viv."

He could feel her watching him walk to Steve's room and was mildly unnerved by her stare, simply because he knew she often saw more than he was comfortable with. However, he was surprised when she finally spoke up, just as he reached for the doorknob. "You'll write, won't you?"

Despite the fact that her question was spoken softly, he heard her clear as day. He still found himself needing clarification though. "What?"

He turned to watch her fidget uncomfortably and look away. "Well, you'll write to Steve won't you? I'll still be in town for another few weeks waiting for my friend, so um, if you wanted you could maybe write something for me too? Don't feel obligated or anything," she rushed out, her eyes snapping up to his anxiously when he still didn't respond. "I just thought that if you wanted to stay in contact, you know… I'll be here."

A slow smile worked itself onto his face, and he chuckled lowly. "Can't stand the thought of never hearing from me again, can ya doll?"

His teasing question had the desired effect—Vivian huffed, crossed her arms, and rolled her eyes and she was back to normal. "Oh, you wish Casanova. I just thought you might want some company, as intangible as it may be. I hear being a solider is awfully lonely."

"Sure, I'll write ya." Bucky's smile turned wicked and Vivian narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "But you have to send me a picture."

Vivian blinked at him blankly. "A picture of what?"

Bucky rolled his eyes, though with much more affection than normal. "Of you. Obviously."

"Of me?" Vivian asked, her brows furrowing. He couldn't be serious. "Why would you want that?"

Bucky shrugged. "To show all the other guys that I have the prettiest girl waiting for me back home. It'll make 'em real jealous."

Vivian scoffed. "I'm not your girl and we both know it Bucky Barnes."

Bucky grinned. "Well yeah, but _they_ don't need to know that."

Vivian wanted to argue further, but found that she couldn't when faced with his earnest gaze. "I'll think about it."

Bucky nodded, seeming to accept that answer for now. "Sweet dreams, Vivian."

He turned, opening the door to his shared room with Steve, but still heard her whispered, "Goodnight Bucky" before she left for her own room.

Bucky tried not to think too much about what tomorrow would hold for him as he got ready for bed, but he found that thoughts of pretty redheads with intelligent and playful gray eyes made it a little more bearable.

 **A/N: There's really no excuse for why this took so long, other than life blows. So I will try to continue to write this story, and I hope you all are still interested. I appreciate each and every review, follow, and favorite. You guys are what motivate me to keep writing.**

 **So, please, please, please let me know what you think and even where you would like this story to go. Speaking of which, shout-out to batmanskittles17 for giving me the idea for the gym scene. I hope I didn't disappoint!**


	6. Rule 6: Diamonds Aren't Her Best Friend

_Dear Vivian,_

 _How are things back home? Is Steve doing okay? Are you? I know you'll probably tell me that you're both doing fine and that I shouldn't worry. But I've worried about Steve for most of our lives, so it's kind of hard to stop now, especially since I can't check up on him myself. And somehow I've started worrying about you too. I honestly didn't think that I would, at least not this much. But it seems like all I can do between training nonstop and sleeping is worry about the two of you. I feel kind of like a mother that's been separated from her two children who like to find trouble when she's not looking, and it's not a comparison that I like, but I can't seem to shake it. It's disgusting._

 _Okay, that probably wasn't the best start to a letter to a sweetheart—I've never really written one myself, but a lot of the other guys have been writing them. Most of the men act like they're not at all affected, and a lot of them say that they don't even write home. But I've caught a few writing them and a lot more have been caught writing when they shouldn't be and the drill sergeant reads the letters to all of us. It's pretty funny to hear the tough guys profess their love through terrible poetry and sappy love letters about how much they miss their girl (or worse, their mom). But then I think about someone else reading my letters to you and Steve, and it's not as funny anymore._

 _But that's not who we are anyway, is it Viv? As you've reminded me several times now, you aren't anybody's girl, let alone mine. It's actually one of my favorite things about you. You don't take shit from anyone and you take care of yourself (unless you find a spider in your room, of course. I know I swore I'd never bring that up again, but I don't think letters count, so). Besides, you always see through me, so why waste my time trying to find five different ways to compliment the shade of your eyes or how much I love your smile when I can just tell you to make sure you and Steve remember to eat and don't get yourselves beaten to death in an alley while I'm gone. It's a lot easier, and I know how much you appreciate honestly. It's not like I'm trying to impress anybody anyway—I'm only writing_ _you_.

 _Honestly, I'm not much of a writer either, so any attempts at wooing you through poetry would only result in you politely telling me to find a better way to occupy my time. Or maybe you'd send my letter back with a scathing response—it's hard to tell with you sometimes._

 _Actually, no it's not. I know without a doubt how you would respond to any poetry with thinly veiled sexual innuendos. A visit to Camp Lehigh that would end with you kicking my ass would be unavoidable._

… _Maybe I should give it a try? At least I'd be able to see your angelic face while you choke the life out of me._

 _Okay, okay. So I snuck in one sappy line, but that's it. I promise._

 _Anyway, what have you and Steve been getting up to while I've been gone? It's only been a week as I'm writing this, but it feels like longer. Mom says she met you the other day—she mentioned this as she threatened to castrate me for allowing an upstanding young woman such as yourself to live alone with Steve while I was gone. I got the feeling that she wasn't aware that you had been living there for over a week before I left, so I have to thank you and Steve for that small mercy. Though that reminds me, I need to know what you said to her to make her refer to you as a "perfectly lovely and intelligent young lady that deserves better than the squalor that you call an apartment." I'm having trouble comparing that description to the redhead that likes to beat men up and curse like a sailor for fun that I know you as._

 _I'm actually not sure how she wrote to me already anyway. Civilians aren't supposed to have the address for mail until we send it to you (which I've written on the envelope, so you can write to me if you want. Or not. Whatever you want to do.), but I got her letter two days ago. It was pretty embarrassing when my sergeant personally handed me the letter from my "mommy." But I wasn't the only one with an unhinged mother writing to them already, so it wasn't all that terrible I guess._

 _I've already finished my letter to Steve, and I asked him how you're doing too. So between the two of you, I expect an honest response. I should be home in just another three weeks, and then I'll be able to check on you idiots myself and if I found out you've been lying I'll… be very disappointed? Great, I sound like my mother again. Why do you two do this to me?_

 _Well, I should finish this up while I'm ahead (am I ahead? Is this a competition? I feel like everything between us is a competition and you usually win. But_ _why_ _?). Don't do crazy shit until I get back. Make sure Steve doesn't do crazy shit either. And don't forget what you promised to send me before I left._

 _Love,_

 _Bucky_

Vivian closed her eyes and clutched the letter to her chest with a watery smile on her face. She was glad that she had taken the letter and ran to Bucky's room when Steve had given it to her not ten minutes ago. She would have died of embarrassment if he had seen her tear up over a simple letter from Bucky.

But then, nothing about Bucky was simple, so she supposed that wasn't the best description.

She wasn't entirely sure what to make of the letter either. It wasn't at all what she had expected of the smooth-talking man who seemed to always know what to say, but she couldn't say that she was disappointed. Like he said, this letter seemed to be truer to who he was with her—less posturing and more honesty, though still rife with flirtation (the signature's innocent declaration of love was no mistake, she was sure, and he would be checked, just as he likely wanted). Her problem lied with how the letter made her _feel_ , not what it said.

It was just a letter. True, she couldn't remember having ever received a written letter in the past (or, she supposed, the future). She had occasionally spoken to her parents over the phone over the years, but they didn't have the best of relationships even after Professor Xavier had erased their falling out from their minds, and they had never apparently felt the need to write or send birthday cards to their only child. Most birthdays were spent at an awkward dinner with some sight-seeing of New York with her parents who never seemed to know what to say to her; she was disinclined to make any effort either with the pain of being called a monster at the tender age of fourteen still being raw despite the fact that she was the only one who remembered it.

But what Bucky wrote to her, how he asked about both her and Steve and even admitted to _worrying_ about her seemed like what family was actually supposed to do. It reminded her of Kitty's stern warnings not to get herself killed when she had to go on a mission without her. It reminded her of the professor's affectionate smiles when he admonished her for doing something stupid. It reminded her of Logan's gruff greetings of "hey, kid" and the passing ruffle of her hair and Scott's gentle corrections of her techniques, Jean's lilting laugh when they discussed their favorite books, Bobby's incessant teasing and Rogue's subsequent whack to the back of his head while she grinned at her—it reminded her of home. As she laid on a bed that wasn't hers, holding a letter from someone she shouldn't care about but undoubtedly did, she envisioned the warmth of Xavier's school and the comfort and protection that its four walls and inhabitants that she loved so dearly caused. And suddenly, she was crying for an entirely different reason.

* * *

 _Dear Bucky,_

 _Thus far, Steve and I have both managed to avoid certain death, though we have come close a few times. In fact, just the other day, we thwarted an unsavory man who had taken up the habit of frequenting our doorstep. Every day, around approximately three o'clock in the afternoon, this man would sneak to our door and discretely leave ominous packages and letters for us to find. Steve and I, as you can imagine, were both extremely concerned by this. However, Steve was finally able to catch the scoundrel in the act a few days ago and confronted him. This resulted in Steve being knocked unconscious almost immediately (though he would like me to inform you that he did get precisely two good hits in prior to this). The sound of his frail body hitting the pavement fortunately alerted me to the trouble. I immediately rushed to his aid and accosted the man myself. This endeavor concluded with a total of two fractured ribs, a broken finger, a sprained wrist, a concussion, and a fist-full of my hair being misplaced, as well as two separate trips to the hospital and the jail. Which reminds me. I should mention that this letter is being penned from a jail cell in what I am told is Brooklyn's finest police department as I am being held for assaulting a federal employee—your mailman, as it turns out. But don't worry—Steve visited me just this morning, and has assured me that he is planning my escape for this evening. This does have the unfortunate side effect of Steve and I's imminent departure from the great city of New York, which means that you may have trouble locating us once you return from Camp Lehigh. I have already planned a series of clues to leave for you so that you are able to track us down, but I fear that they may be too complicated for a junior detective such as yourself. I remain hopeful that you will surprise me, however._

 _In all seriousness Bucky:_ _relax_ _. I know that you can't help but worry about Steve, but he is in good hands—his own, to be clear. This is the same Brooklyn you left him in, and he is managing just fine being an adult without your assistance. Steve is tougher than he looks, and you know that. He's more than capable of surviving on his own. That isn't to say that he doesn't miss you. I know he would never tell you this (because men are apparently incapable of talking about their feelings), but he does. Terribly. And if I were in the business of being honest with myself (and you), then I would be forced to admit that I miss you as well. Fortunately, I am not, so all I will say on the subject is that I hope that you are doing well too._

 _I'm sure you can't give me many details, but I'd love to hear about your training. I mean, training to kill Nazis with a vast number of other grown men who probably want to be there just as much as you do sounds rather boring. But you seem to be able to make anything exciting, so I'm all ears if you ever want to talk about it. As you suspected, I would much rather hear about sweaty men running laps together all day (at least, I assume that's what you do with all of your time) than read some sadly uninspired poem. Though, if you would like me to review such a work before you send it to one of the many other girls vying for you attention, I would be happy to do so. With your charm and my writing prowess, I'm sure that we can find someone willing to put up with you for longer than one date._

 _Ah, speaking of putting up with you: I did, in fact, meet your mother earlier this week. I can see where you get your charm from, though she was not at all thrilled to find that I was alone in your apartment with Steve. I won't mention her reaction when Steve told her I was staying in your room while you're gone… She may have fainted. It's a blur. As for what I did to convince her that I am a respectable woman, I will never tell._

 _Otherwise, things seem to be normal. Steve is going to his art classes and working at the theater. I just follow him around like a parasite and take advantage of your kindness. How this has become "normal" in the past two weeks, I will never understand._

 _I'm also still looking out for my friend. If what I heard is correct, he should be arriving in just two more weeks, so I may miss your epic three day return to Brooklyn. I can't describe my disappointment knowing that I may not get the opportunity to see your harem clambering for your affections one last time before you deploy, but I can only hope that should such a tragedy occur, that I will run into you in the future. Because yes, everything is a competition between us and I will come out on top—though what we are actually competing for or about remains to a mystery to even me._

 _With begrudging admiration,_

 _Vivan_

 _P.S. I've attached what you requested of me. Try not to make me regret it._

* * *

Vivian set her pen down, eyeing the paper critically and rubbing her hand. A cramp had set in about halfway through, and she was reminded that she very rarely actually wrote anything after college. Typing was just much easier, not to mention much more legible. But the worst was yet to come.

Vivian heaved a sigh and pushed back from Bucky's modest desk and exited the room, feigning a confidence she didn't feel.

Her target was sitting on the couch and didn't seem to notice her entrance, his eyes riveted onto the drawing pad that was on his lap as he made small, precise strokes with his pencil. Vivian had originally been surprised by Steve's artistic ability, but after attending several of his art classes at a local college she had become used to it, though she still appreciated the realistic sketch of a bird that appeared to be wearing a top hat and waistcoat that he had rendered on the page as she approached him.

She cleared her throat softly to get his attention. When he looked up at her, she said, "Uh, hey Steve. I was hoping that I could ask for a favor."

Steve looked momentarily confused before he smiled widely at her. "Sure, Viv! Anything."

If Vivian had expected any hesitation from the blond (as most normal people would show when being asked for an ambiguous "favor"), she was definitely mistaken. Vivian, despite the fact that she lived with him for free and seemed to have no actual way of supporting herself, never actually _asked_ for Steve was always someone who wanted to help people whenever possible, and with Bucky gone, he had begun to feel a little less… needed than usual. So he was certainly more than willing to help her with whatever she needed. And judging by the way she worried her bottom lip between her teeth and was tugging self-consciously on the hem of her dress, this was a big favor, and one she was nervous about asking of him. So his smile turned a little softer, more subdued, and he pushed, "Really, Vivian. You don't have to worry about asking me for anything. If I can, I'll help you. You should know that by now."

That seemed to make her a little more comfortable, as the gnawing on her lip stopped and she nodded at him. "Right. Do you have a camera?"

That… was not what he was expecting.

"Um." He blinked at her for a moment before he was able to gather his thoughts. "Yeah, I do. I did photography for awhile and it was a gift from… from my mom, before she passed..."

He had to pause for another moment, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as memories of his mother, with her long blond hair and kind brown eyes, flooded his brain. It wasn't often he allowed himself to think of her anymore—there were more important things to think of, like the war and how he could finally get himself enlisted. He was a little surprised that the memories were still as painful now as they were five years ago when she died. But he supposed some wounds were harder to heal than others.

He opened his eyes when he felt Vivian sink down onto the couch beside him. He was surprised when she gently laid a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see her smiling at him softly. She had never seemed like the overly affectionate or comforting type before—she was too straightforward and abrasive for that. But the way she looked at him made him feel like she understood, and he got the feeling she was giving him the chance to talk to her about it if he wanted.

He wasn't sure if he did.

He nodded at her in acknowledgment of the support she was offering him and she removed her hand. After a few moments, he asked, "Are your parents still around?"

Even if he didn't necessarily want to talk about his mom and her absence in his life, he was still curious about the understanding he thought she showed him.

Vivian's smile turned bitter, but to his surprise, she actually answered. "Yes, with around being a relative term."

He was briefly stunned—she had never actually answered any personal questions about herself before, and he still wasn't sure why. But he understood that some people kept secrets for a reason, and he was never one to pry. Yet still… "What do you mean? Why aren't you with them?"

Vivian shrugged, leaning back into the couch and closing her eyes. Steve got the feeling she was in the same boat he had been in only a minute ago, reliving painful memories. "We don't really talk anymore. They kicked me out when I was fourteen, and we haven't really seen eye to eye since."

"They kicked you out?" Steve repeated, having trouble processing the thought. His father had died in the war before he had been born, but his mother showed him nothing but love and kindness while she was alive. He couldn't imagine a parent ever choosing to never see their child again.

Vivian's lip twitched minutely and she turned her head to face him. "They didn't like who I was—who I am, I suppose. It was easier to live with the fact that they were disappointed in their only child if I wasn't around to remind them of it."

It was all the explanation that she would give, he knew, so he refrained for asking for more details. Though he couldn't help but feel that it explained a bit about Vivian that he didn't understand before.

"I'm sorry," was all he said.

But it was enough. Vivian's smile returned and she shrugged, back to acting as though the world couldn't touch her. "It's hardly your fault, and there's nothing to be sorry for anyway. I am who I am today because of them, so I suppose I should be grateful, really. I would have never met you and Bucky otherwise."

Steve laughed outright when she bumped his shoulder, grinning at him playfully. "It's been a really rewarding experience so far. I'm thinking about opening the apartment up to anyone who's broke and can't find a place to stay in Brooklyn. I think it gives me purpose."

"Hey," Vivian admonished, flicking his ear in annoyance. "You're not allowed to collect anymore strays. I wouldn't be special anymore if you did."

Steve scooted away from her abuse, laughing as he batted her hand away. "You'll always be special, Viv. You'll always be the most needy, emotionally unbalanced stray we'll ever find. And I doubt we'll ever get rid of you."

As Vivian rolled her eyes, he suddenly remembered what it was that had even brought this conversation up in a completely roundabout way. "Oh, yeah. Why did you want to know if I have a camera? Do you need to borrow one for something?"

Again, Vivian's normally calm demeanor shifted and she was blushing. "Ah, not exactly. I was wondering if… if you would mind taking my picture?"

Steve was, once again, confused. "Um…why?"

His temporary roommate was once more tugging at the hem on her dress and wouldn't meet his eye. "I-It's for Bucky. He, uh… he asked me to send him one. And I don't have any, so I was kind of hoping that if you could…"

She finally raised her head to look at him, and he couldn't help but chuckle at her embarrassment. "I didn't realize you two were that close," he teased.

Vivian narrowed her eyes at him and huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and looking pointedly away. She had a tendency to straighten her posture and take on a more imposing demeanor when defending herself, something that Steve was rather jealous of. No matter how much he tried, he doubted he would ever be able to dissuade someone from doing something the way the Vivian could with one look with her steel gray eyes and body language that clearly warned of an impending ass-kicking. It was certainly a gift.

"We aren't 'that close.' He just asked and I thought that it would be rude not to after everything you guys have done for me."

Despite the warning signs, Steve couldn't resist the temptation to further tease the redhead. He was, after all, never one to back down. And besides, he knew Vivian well enough by know to realize she was more bark than bite… usually. Sometimes, the bite actually tended to be far worse than the bark. "Well, if you aren't, then why did he ask?"

She threw up her hands in exasperation. "Well I don't know why Bucky does the things he does Steve. Are you gonna take the damn picture or tease me all day?"

Still grinning, Steve decided to let her be. For now. He got up and crossed the living room, halfway to his destination before a frustrated Vivian exclaimed, "Where are you going now?"

Steve rolled his eyes, though she couldn't see. "To get my camera, obviously."

"Don't you roll your eyes at me Steve Rogers!"

… Or maybe she could.

 _How does she do that?_

"I'll never tell."

Steve whipped back around, staring at Vivian with wide eyes. She merely winked at him in response.

He huffed and opened the door to his room, slipping inside and beginning his search for his camera.

He had forgotten the primary reason that one shouldn't tease Vivian Grant unless prepared to deal with the consequences. She would never hit him or hurt him in any way, of course, but she had an uncanny ability to make people _very_ uncomfortable if she wanted to. She always seemed to be one step ahead of him, and he struggled to understand how, short of the ability to read his mind.

Steve chuckled as he finally located his camera and pulled it down from the shelf. _What a ridiculous thought._

When he reentered the living room, Vivian was still sitting on the couch, though she was now holding his copy of _The Great Gatsby_. She had stopped asking to borrow his books about a week ago, now just taking the ones she wanted and returning them when she was finished. Steve didn't mind though. Most of the books were originally his mothers, and Vivian seemed to have a deeper appreciation for them than he ever did, so he was only glad that someone was finally enjoying them again.

"You ready?" he asked, holding up the camera when she caught his eye.

Her lips thinned slightly, but she nodded nevertheless. She stood, smoothing out her dress as she did, and turned to face him expectantly. "Where do you think would be a good place?"

Steve paused. He hadn't thought of that. But now that he did, it would be pretty strange to send Bucky a picture of Vivian just sitting on their couch. "Grab your book and follow me."

Steve noticed her hesitate before she snatched her book back up and rushed to follow him out the front door.

"Where are we going?" she asked as she met him at the bottom of the stairs. Steve only grinned at her.

"You'll see. Just follow me."

She was silent as he led her to their destination, but as soon as they crossed onto the park grounds, he could feel her staring at him. When he turned to face her, she was merely raising an eyebrow at him with a blank expression on her face. "Really, Steve? Don't you think this is a bit much?"

Steve laughed and gestured with his head for her to follow him to the large tree to the left of the walking path they were on. "Nah, Bucky'll love it."

Vivian snorted. "Of course he will. He's a giant perv." Steve let out a shocked, booming laugh at that. He had never heard the term before, but he thought he understood based on the context and the fact that it was Vivian who said it. "But this doesn't have to be a big deal. It's just a picture."

Steve disagreed, but he decided to refrain from telling her that. "Think of it as you helping me. Like I said, I really liked photography a couple years ago, but I haven't had the chance to practice for a while."

Vivian gave him a dubious look before plopping down on the ground unceremoniously. "Are you asking me to model for you Steve? How scandalous."

Steve was comfortable enough with Vivian now not to be surprised or offended by her question, though his cheeks did warm just a bit. "Sure, if that's how you want to think about it."

Vivian rolled her eyes, but appeared to give in. "Fine, so what do you want me to do?"

"Read," he said simply.

"You just want me to read?" Vivian asked slowly, blinking up at him with confusion. When he only nodded in response, she pressed, "But why?"

"It'll seem less staged," he responded, fiddling with his slightly dated camera, the once pristine engraving of _Kodak Ektra_ now tarnished slightly. It really had been a long time since he had used it, so it took him a moment to reacquaint himself with the settings.

He heard Vivian scoff. "But it _is_ staged."

Steve sighed. "But it's not supposed to _look_ staged. Besides, you like reading. I'm sure Bucky would rather see you doing something you love than posing like a pinup girl."

"I doubt that." Vivian smirked at him when he flushed again, but he ignored her.

"Just sit there and read. Pretend I'm not here."

"Yeah, yeah," she said, reclining back against the tree, the book now held open on her lap.

Steve took a few photos, before he spoke again. "You don't look like you're reading. You look like you're contemplating murder."

"Maybe I am," Vivian responded in her usual, off-handed fashion. "But it's hard to look like I'm reading when I'm too distracted by you creeping on me over there with your camera."

Steve sputtered. "You _asked_ me to do this!"

"I know," she said, smiling at him apologetically. "Sorry. I'm just not used to my picture being taken like this I guess."

Steve shrugged and refocused his attention to behind the lens. "I get it. But if Bucky asked for a picture, despite any questions regarding his reasoning, I want to make sure we send him a good one. So just bear with me."

At the mention of his best friend, Steve noticed a small, almost peaceful smile grace Vivian's lips. Her eyes were still trained to the page, and she had reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He allowed a smile of his own to form as he snapped a final picture.

"Okay," he said, straightening up once more. "We're good to go."

Vivian looked up at him in surprise. "You're done already?"

Steve nodded and held a hand out to her to help her up. "Yeah. I'll get this developed for you so you can send it to your soldier."

As soon as she was back on her feet, she dropped his hand and swatted at him with hers. "He's not _my_ anything, Steve!"

Steve laughed, dashing down the street away from her. "Have you checked with him about that?"

He increased his pace when he heard the woman growl at him before giving chase, still laughing though it became more winded as the stitch in his side flared. He had expected the time between Bucky's departure and when he would finally be approved for duty to be terribly lonely and depressing. Though he had protested at first, he was actually relieved that they had picked up their stray when they did.

 _She sure keeps things interesting_ , Steve thought as Vivian finally caught up with him only to yell, "Race you back home!" over her shoulder as she passed him.

* * *

Vivian had just dropped her letter to Bucky off at the post office, somewhat humiliating photograph safely sealed inside, when she spotted the recruitment center she had visited two weeks ago.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully, contemplating her options. She should probably check it out to make sure that Dr. Erskine hadn't returned and that there were no new developments for her to be aware of. That was why she was there after all.

However, on the off chance that he _had_ returned and she was then able to leave with him and really begin her mission, she dreaded the fact that it would mean she wouldn't get to see Bucky again before she left.

The auburn-haired mutant shook her head in exasperation and started the trek to the office. Her mission was to locate and destroy any evidence of mutants hidden away in Hydra, _not_ to canoodle with a man who would kill several people in the future.

She was finding it harder and harder to make that distinction though. She had only known Bucky and Steve for two weeks, and she was already comparing them to her family back in her time. She felt _protective_ of them, and she couldn't do that when she had to let them essentially die in this time before she could leave. Could she really do that?

 _Of course I can_ , Vivian thought, squaring her shoulders as she approached the looming building. _It's a matter of saving the future. I can't change anything without potentially endangering my family, so I won't. I can't… They would understand, if I could tell them_.

Despite her false confidence, she was not really certain that they would.

This time, the office was open, so she simply strolled through the double doors and located the stairs that would take her to Dr. Erskine's third-floor office. She passed several people as she walked down the too white and too bright hallway and smiled at them politely as if she belonged there. No one questioned her, likely due to her making them forget about her presence as soon as they saw her. It was quite handy, being a telepath.

She finally came to the last door on the right, the one she remembered to be Dr. Erskine's, which was confirmed by glass on the window emblazoned with his name.

 _Subtle_ , she thought as she knocked on the door.

When there was no answer, she tried again, with a little more force. Vivian frowned when no one responded.

The light was on, and Vivian was certain that she sensed someone behind the door, but their thoughts weren't… _normal_. It was like trying to bring a staticy radio station into focus—she could hear the underlying noise, could make out some distinct parts, but the whole of the message was lost on her.

Narrowing her eyes, Vivian tried the handle, twisting the door knob slowly. She was surprised when it turned easily under her hand, but continued on, pushing the door open gradually, tensed for a confrontation.

What she found surprised her greatly.

As she let the door fall the rest of the way open to bang against the wall, alerting the intruder of her presence, she stared at the room's occupant in confusion.

The blonde girl, no older than thirteen, was rifling through the filing cabinet Vivian had been perusing just two weeks ago. She was wearing a tight fitting, all-white outfit that consisted of a plain, short-sleved shirt and a pair of form-fitting of pants that were tucked into heeled boots that came up to her knees—also white. It was honestly painful to look at her under the bright lights of Dr. Erskine's office.

The girl did not seem to anticipate any company as she jumped and snapped icy blue eyes up to train on Vivian's face as soon as she heard her. Neither seemed sure about how to respond. They simply continued to stare at each other for an uncomfortably long time, Vivian still hovering in the doorway and the girl still with her hands in the filing cabinet, before Vivian decided to finally break the silence.

"Uh," she said, ever so eloquently. "Who are you?"

The girl didn't respond, only continuing to stare at Vivian mutely, as if waiting for something. The redhead pursed her lips, taking one step into the room, eyes trained solely on the girl, who didn't move a single muscle in response. She closed the door behind her.

Now that they were in the same room, Vivian noted that the buzzing had lessened, become more bearable. She wasn't sure why this girl's mind wasn't as open to her as everyone else's, but it reminded her of when Professor Xavier tried to shield his mind form her. The comparison made her uncomfortable.

So she decided to test out her theory.

"I asked who you are," she stated, and immediately pushed against the girl's mind, seeking an answer to the question she seemed disinclined to share.

That, as it turned out, was a mistake.

Though she shouldn't have felt anything at the gentle intrusion into her thoughts, her response was undeniable. The blonde cried out wordlessly, and Vivian was only just able to throw up a mental barrier of her own before the girl could lash out with her own telepathic attack.

Vivian gasped as she stumbled back against the door. "You're a telepath? Is that why you're here?" When the girl only sneered at her, she took two large steps forward, her arm reaching out as though to grab the girls arm. "Listen, I need to know—"

That had also been a mistake.

Before she could even process what was happening, the petite blonde teen had completely transformed her body into what appeared to be glittering stone… Was that _diamond_?

Vivian reeled back, gaping in shock. "Okay, what the fu—?!"

She cut off her very important question with a squeak as the girl lifted her leg, twisted her body, and then lashed out at her with the back of her heel with an expertly executed kick that Vivian just barely managed to block with her arm.

"Oh, _ow_!" she complained, following it up with a few choice curses when the girl continued to push against Vivian's raised forearm with her now weaponized leg. There was no doubt now about whether it was diamond. It certainly _felt_ like she had just been hit with the most durable stone that she knew of, and she counted herself lucky that her arm hadn't broken on impact. She felt that the girl's young age and small stature were what limited the strength behind the blow, and Vivian found herself to be extremely grateful.

That relief was short-lived, however, when she realized that while she had at least been able to hear the girl's thoughts in some capacity before, she was completely silent to her now.

 _Great_ , she thought, gritting her teeth in frustration as she continued to push against the girls raised leg. _She must be able to hide her thoughts when she's in this state. But it doesn't seem like she's able to use her telepathy on me either, which is a blessing of sorts. But what am I supposed to_ do?

She dropped her arm, swiftly ducking her head as the stone-clad leg sailed over her head. The blonde was surprised by the sudden movement and was unsteady as she tried to right herself once more. Before she could place her other foot solidly on the ground again, Vivian sprung up from her crouched position and lunged at her.

They fell bodily to the ground and Vivian attempted to restrain the girl's smaller body under her own weight. Considering the fact that the girl seemed to be completely made of diamond now, this was easier said than done. She now had more weight to throw around, despite her smaller size, and she used that to her advantage to break her right arm free from Vivian's grasp and shoot her elbow up into her throat.

Vivian reeled back, her hand grasping helplessly at her throat as she chocked and sputtered, and the girl used this distraction to draw back her fist once more and send it careening into Vivian's right eye.

The telepath fell onto her back on Dr. Erskine's office floor, still gasping for breath and blinking back the tears that clouded her vision at the painful blow. She saw the slender fist plummeting toward her face again just in time to roll to the right. She watched as the wood beneath the carpet splintered under the teen's hand. That hit had been much harder than the last.

She rolled away from her assailant again, attempting to get to her feet before she was roughly kicked toward the door. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard the distinct cracking sound of a rib and it was suddenly much harder to breathe.

Vivian turned to face the girl, at a loss as to what to do. She had never been a quitter—she believed in fighting until you could do nothing else. But her primary offensive attacks were all mental, and this girl was able to block her telepathy. Furthermore, she had a secondary mutation that rendered any physical attacks that Vivian could muster up to be worthless, and it definitely made the girl's attacks much more effective and debilitating.

 _I'm literally the worst telepath in existence_ , she thought dazedly, watching the girl approach her from her position sprawled on the floor with great trepidation. _Everyone else gets a second mutation. This crazy bitch gets diamond skin. Jean gets kick ass telekinesis. Professor Xavier gets… his wheelchair?_

Her musings were cut off as the phone located on Dr. Erskine's desk began to ring. This seemed to grab the girl's attention as well, as she turned her attention to it in mild confusion. Vivian saw her opportunity and took it.

She once again shot up from her prone position on the floor, but rather than attempting to tackle her, she dashed toward the window.

Just as she anticipated, the girl was quick to follow, and Vivian had just managed to fumble it open (incredibly thankful that no one appeared to believe in locking their windows around here), when the girl gripped her shoulder and spun her around.

Her strength came from the weight from the diamond that her body was now composed of, and it seemed that she was not actually very accustomed to fighting like this. Vivian hoped that her hand-to-hand combat skills were as insufficient as they seemed, and shot out with her right hand, hitting the inside of the elbow of the arm that was currently gripping her wrist.

The pressure on her arm released immediately as the girl stumbled back in surprise. Vivian then side-stepped to the right and snatched her opponents own wrist in her hand. When she tried to jerk back out of her reach, Vivian only increased her grip, wincing in discomfort at the pain that shot up her injured right forearm, and force the girl to turn so that her back was to the window and Vivian was facing her.

The girl jerked again. "Let. Go." The girl growled.

Vivian forced a saccharine smile on her face. "Not until you tell me who you are and why you're here."

The girl snarled and finally managed to snatch her arm out of Vivian's grasp. The redhead took a cautious step back, eyeing the girl all the while. Vivian couldn't be sure due to the teen's face now being completely made of uneven stone, but she got the sense that she was being glared at. She supposed she couldn't blame her—she did, after all, interrupt the girl's nefarious activities when she was about to commit her own nefarious activities (for a good cause, of course).

"My name is Emma Frost. I work for Dr. Schmidt. And to think that I was afraid I would have to report that I found nothing in this shithole, but he will be _very_ pleased to hear about you."

Vivian blinked in surprise. She hadn't actually expected the girl to _answer_ her. Giving out information like that was only something villains did in movies. But she was even more concerned by what the girl had to say.

"Dr. Schmidt? The whack-job who's experimenting on mutants? You _work_ for him?!"

Emma narrowed her eyes at Vivian. "Yes, and he will be grateful when I bring you to him. Telepaths like us are rare, and our usefulness is nearly unlimited. You should come with me willingly while I'm still giving you the chance."

Vivian scoffed. _Our usefulness is nearly unlimited. Yeah, maybe when my abilities aren't being blocked by your diamond shell, you brat._

"No thanks," she said, taking another step back. "I'd rather stay here, I think."

" _That wasn't an option_ ," hissed Emma, lunging forward to seize Vivian once more.

Vivian was ready this time though, and when Emma stepped forward to reach her, she dropped to a crouch, swinging her leg out to knock the girl down. As she feared, the kick did more damage to her leg than to the other telepath. But it did unsteady her enough for Vivian to jump back up and throw all of her weight into Emma's petite body, sending her flailing out of the open window and onto the pavement below as she caught herself on the window frame.

Vivian watched with cool detachment as the blonde stood back up as though nothing had happened, leaving behind a noticeable crater in the ground. When she turned her face back up to look at her, Vivian met her eyes unwaveringly. They continued to stare at each other for a long moment, each of them willing the other to make the next move, before Emma finally turned to face the street, her diamond shell fading into soft, pale skin, and ran off into the bustling Brooklyn crowd.

Vivian sighed in relief, turning her back to the window and sliding down the wall.

That was not how she had expected this day to go.

* * *

According to the watch that she had stolen from an unsuspecting vendor a week ago, it was just after 6 pm when she creaked the door to her current residence open. She peeked inside, relieved to find that Steve was currently nowhere to be found. She opened the door the rest of the way as quietly as possible and limped inside.

She had almost made it all the way to Bucky's room when she tripped over the end table that was situated next to the chair in the living room. She swore when her abused ankle came into contact with the leg of the wretched piece of furniture, and cursed herself even more for not watching where she was going in her hurry to make it safely to her room undetected.

If the noise caused by her minor collision with the table hadn't alerted Steve to her presence, then her swearing did.

"Hey, Vivian," he said as he rushed out of his room, closing his door behind him. "Are you o—?!"

Vivian smirked briefly, not needing her telepathy to know the exact time that her blond friend had caught sight of her sorry state, but let all amusement drop as she turned to face him. "Hey Steve."

He looked as though he had seen a ghost. His pale blue eyes were wide with clear concern and shock, his mouth slightly open, trying to finish the question he had started but not able to find the words. It was rare that Vivian elicited such concern from someone—it was actually rather touching in a way.

For inexplicable reasons, her eyes began to well-up with tears, and she cursed again, pressing the palm of her uninjured hand to her left eye (the one _without_ the nasty bruise that she could already feel taking up a majority of the right side of her face) to try to stem the flow. She was normally more in control of her emotions—a good poker face was necessity when you could hear everyone's thoughts as cracking up every time Bobby tried to think of a way to finally get with Rouge would give her away—but it seemed that getting her ass handed to her had lowered her defenses.

Vivian shook her head and dropped into the chair beside her, giving up on her attempts to make it into her room unnoticed. It was too late anyway. She had planned on composing herself, straightening her shoulders and meeting Steve's worried eyes to tell him that she was fine. That he shouldn't worry and to go back to his room. He would ask too many questions that she couldn't answer, she knew, and she had other things to worry about. Like that girl, Emma Frost, and how a teenager had managed to so surely hand her own ass to her in a disgusting display of incompetence and what she had meant when she said that Dr. Klaus would be " _very_ interested" to hear about her.

What she hadn't meant to do was allow her head to fall into her hands and sob.

It hardly mattered, she supposed. She wasn't able to do anything right these days. She was a highly-trained mutant; an occasional member of the X-Men; she had been trained in hand-to-hand combat by the Wolverine and Cyclops, and Professor Xavier and Jean Grey had taught her how to hone her telepathy into the weapon she often used it as. And she had almost been captured by a teenage girl with less skill and more attitude than her, which was surely saying something.

 _I'm supposed to be blending in here and trying to locate information on mutants, and I haven't accomplished anything yet. In fact, I've done the exact_ opposite _of what the professor asked me to do. I've integrated myself into Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes' lives, despite his explicit warnings, and even become_ friends _with them. I still haven't found Dr. Erskine or found any compromising information. I'm apparently not being discrete at all, and now another telepath with a diamond fetish and her mutant-chopping boss know about me and will likely try to track me down. Great. Can I do_ anything _right anymore?_

Steve, apparently sensing her (obvious) distress, slowly crossed the room and sank into a crouch in front of her. He looked for a part of her that he felt comfortable touching that _wasn't_ covered in a dark purple bruise, deciding upon her left knee and placing his hand upon it in an attempt at a comforting gesture. She sobbed louder.

"Viv, you need to tell me what happened," he said, voice soft so as not to spoke her anymore than she already appeared to be. "Are you okay?"

Vivian drew in a deep breath and made an attempt to collect herself. Crying about her failures certainly wasn't helping anything, and its not as though she could talk to Steve about her problems anyway. She gave him a watery, grateful smile and patted his hand where it was tightly gripping her knee, keeping him calm as much as comforting her, she suspected. "I'm fine Steve. I've just had a rough day."

Steve laughed at that, but it lacked humor and had none of his usual warmth. It was easy for her to forget the imposing man he would become in just a few short months when he had the body of a scarecrow, but she remembered then. "I think that's putting it mildly, Vivian. You need to tell me what happened. Now."

A biting retort about her not owing him anything was on the tip of her tongue before she stopped herself. She did owe him— a lot, actually, and hurtful comments borne of her her pain would not help her. If she were honest, she knew that Steve did deserve an explanation. She should tell him about her mission, who and what she was and why she was here. He could help her find the files when he begins his crusade against all of the Hydra bases, and it would be helpful to have someone who she could fully discuss things with. Someone who she could be _honest_ with.

But she couldn't. She had made a promise to the professor, and she knew that telling someone that you're a time traveler come from the future to prevent catastrophe had the risk of causing further catastrophe.

She still had to tell him something though. He deserved that much.

"I can't go into too much detail, Steve, but believe me, I wish I could." When she paused to gather her thoughts, he nodded at her, letting her know that he understood, though the thinning of his lips told her that he very much wished to press her for the information she wouldn't give him. But he respected her too much to do that, and she loved him for it in that moment.

"The friend that I've been looking for is actually an old employer of sorts. He has an office here in town that I've been visiting regularly to ensure that he hasn't returned yet. Today when I went, there was someone else there who shouldn't have been. There was an altercation that I was clearly unprepared for."

At the end of her extremely simplified explanation of that afternoon's events, Steve continued to stare at her mutely, appearing to be processing what she was telling him. After a few moments, he only asked, "Are you in trouble Vivian?"

That was not the question that she had been anticipating. Demands for more information, questions about who attacked her and why, sure. But _was she in trouble_?

She opened her mouth, fully prepared to say "no." But that's not what slipped out on a chocking sob. "I don't know."

Steve seemed to understand though. He nodded and stood, walking the short distance to the bathroom.

Vivian finally lifted her head from where it was still buried in her hands, wiping roughly at her face in an attempt to dry her tears. She sucked air in through her nose, noisily sucking up the snot that had began to collect during her fit. She immediately winced and clutched at her right side and struggled to regain her breath. She had almost forgotten about her injured ribs, though they had bothered her the entire trip home. Initially, she had feared that Emma had broken them, but at most she suspected they were fractured. Still, it hurt like hell.

She had just braced her hands on the arms of the chair and was preparing to stand up when Steve left the bathroom, arms full of medical supplies.

"What are you doing?!" he demanded, looking more than a little frazzled as he rushed back to her side.

Vivian raised an eyebrow, but settled back into the chair. "I was going to go to bed and try to sleep this off."

Steve rolled his eyes as he settled in front of her, placing the medical supplies on the table behind him. "I don't think that you can just sleep off the physical damage from a good beat down. Believe me, I know. Now, where exactly are you injured?"

Despite the significant amount of pain and embarrassment she was currently feeling, she couldn't help but smile at his fussiness. "It's mostly bruises Steve. Nothing that you can fix."

Steve seemed unconvinced. "This only could have happened a few hours ago, and your bruising is already pretty bad. What did this guy hit you with? A crowbar?"

Vivian snorted. "Something like that." She definitely couldn't tell him that she was hit with a fist made of pure diamond, and she didn't feel the need to correct him on the assailant's gender. She was mortified to be in this state as it was; there was no need to let him know that she had been bested by a thirteen-year-old girl.

Steve looked like he wanted to question her further, but blessedly refrained from doing so. "Did he hit your ribs? You're breathing like I do after I try to run."

Vivian laughed at the analogy, but immediately regretted it when her side spasms painfully. She hadn't noticed the wheezing sound that came every time she inhaled before he mentioned it, but she did then. "Yeah, sh—he did. I don't think they're broken, but they might be fractured," she admitted somewhat reluctantly. But if he was going to play nurse, she may as well be a decent patient.

He nodded sagely and stood, heading for the kitchen. He came back only moments later with a bag of ice in his small hand. "Here," he said. "Take this and hold it to your ribs. You shouldn't sit for extended periods of time, and try to sleep upright for the next couple of nights. That should help you heal better, but it'll still hurt for a while."

He rattled off this information so expertly and with such confidence that Vivian was taken aback. "And where did you learn all of this Dr. Steve?" she asked, though she deigned to take the ice from his hand and gently press it against her left side, hissing when the bite of the cold made contact with her ribs.

Steve rolled his eyes as if it were supposed to be obvious. "As well as Bucky patches me up, I can manage to do it myself just fine too. Not to mention that though he likes to pretend otherwise, he does ocassionally lose a fight, or at least get his as— I mean, get hurt before he wins. And my mother was a nurse, so." He finishes his explanation with a shrug, turning back around to search for something in the medical supplies that he had brought with him. He wasn't fast enough to hide the pink tint to his cheeks, however, and Vivian had to wonder if it was due to her praise or the fact that he had almost cursed in front of a _lady_ (the term being used loosely here, of course).

She chuckled lightly, mindful of her numerous aches. "Between you and Bucky, it seems like all you do is patch me up," she joked weakly.

Steve snorted. "No joke. You almost gave me a heart attack when you stumbled in here like that."

This sounded like an admonishment, but as he turned back to face her with a bottle of some sort clutched in his hand, his affectionate smile gave him away. It seemed that Steve really did have a fondness for taking care of strays.

"I wonder if that's how Bucky feels whenever he catches you after a fight," she teased back with a cheeky grin.

Steve's blush intensified, but he ignored her in favor of uncapping the bottle and pouring a small amount of whatever it was into a teaspoon. He held it aloft to her and said, "Take this."

Vivian gently eased the spoon out of his hand and into hers, but raised her brow in question. "What is it?"

"Cough medicine," he explained. "But it should help with the pain."

Vivian shrugged and downed the amber liquid, immediately coughing. She groaned and clutched her side when the pain intensified and gasped out, " _What_ _did you just give me Steve_?!"

Steve only rolled his eyes at her theatrics and handed her the bottle. She snatched it from him and waited for the tears that had sprung to her eyes to subside before she read it, eyes immediately blown wide when she caught the ingredient list. "This has _Codeine_?"

Steve shrugged, not looking at all bothered. "I guess. Why?"

Vivian looked at him incredulously. "Where did you get this?"

"At the pharmacy," he answered slowly, as though the fight had somehow diminished her intelligence. "Where else?"

It was then that Vivian remembered that while Codeine was considered a painkiller that required a reasonable aliment and a prescription to get in her time, it was commonly used for a variety of things, like colds or getting the daylights beaten out of you, only a few decades prior. Well, it would help her feel better, at least temporarily, given the percentage of codeine in the cough syrup and the hefty serving that Steve had just given her.

"Never mind," she said, relaxing back in the chair and closing her eyes as she waited for the pain to subside.

She felt Steve watching her for several minutes before he finally spoke, giving her the impression that he had something of significance to say. She was therefore fairly surprised when she realized what was bothering him.

"I'm going to write Buck and let him know what's going on."

Gray eyes opened wide and Vivian whipped her head around to face Steve where he was now sitting stiffly on the couch, ignoring the discomfort it caused her. "Why?!"

Steve flinched at the panic in her voice, but held his ground, as he was known to do. "He needs to know what's going on. If you're hurt or still in danger, he _deserves_ to know. I know we haven't known you long but… but we both _care_ about what happens to you. Just part of picking up strays I guess." He said the last part with a small upturn of his lips and a light shrug, letting her know that she was joking. She was not inclined to agree, however, and sought to make him aware of that.

"There's no need to worry him about me, Steve. He's got more important things to focus on than my personal problems."

Steve's expression darkened considerably. "If you're in danger, Vivian, that affects us too."

Vivian flinched at the reminder. "I know, Steve. I'm sorry that I'm putting you both at risk by being here, but I would _never_ —"

"That's not what I meant," Steve hastened to correct her. "I mean that if anything were to happen to you, we would be honor bound to avenge you. We're your friends, so anybody that has a problem with you, has a problem with us."

Vivian felt her heart swell and her eyes water and Steve's slightly melodramatic declaration. It must be the Codeine. "You're ridiculous," she laughed, the sound coming out choked and wet thanks to her tears and bruised ribs.

Steve returned her smile and reached over to ruffle her hair. "You're the one who's getting her ass kicked just walking the streets, kid. If anyone's ridiculous, it's you."

Vivian gasped dramatically in mock offense. " _Language_ , Steve Rogers. And who are you calling 'kid'? We're the same age!"

Steve rolled his eyes, but his blush gave away his embarrassment about the slip in propriety. "I turn 25 in two months, when, if I remember correctly, you _just_ turned 24. I'm your senior, kid. It's time for you to respect that."

Another gasping laugh escaped her, and she clutched weakly at her side. "Whatever you say, old man."

They sat there in companionable silence for a long while before Steve brought the subject of Bucky back up. "I still think that we should let him know."

Vivian sighed heavily, but nodded in understanding. "Okay, I get why you think that. But I can't tell either of you any details about my… problems. So you would essentially just be worrying Bucky needlessly. I realize now that you care about me and my safety—a mistake on your part, to be sure—and I appreciate that more than you know. But that doesn't change the fact that I have to keep my secrets, and even if you _did_ know, neither you or Bucky can help me with this. It's on me, and yes, it puts me in danger; and as much as I hate it, by being here I could be putting you in danger as well. So I understand if you'd rather me leave now."

The telepath waited with baited breath for her friend's response, tense and ready for the dismissal that she was sure was imminent. She certainly understood, and as much as she wanted to tell herself that she could protect Steve from any dangers that came after her, she knew that nothing was a given. And until Steve got his Super Soldier JuiceTM, he was completely defenseless. It would be better for everyone if she left now; she was getting too attached anyway. Maybe—

"Don't be ridiculous," Steve said with an incredulous laugh. "Didn't you just hear my speech about friendship and how we care about you? I couldn't stand the thought of turning you out on the street now, especially when I know what kind of danger you're in."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Isn't that the issue Steve? You really _don't_ know what kind of danger I'm in."

Steve smiled at her, the picture of understanding and kindness, and Vivian had to wonder how she could ever think this ridiculously compassionate man would ever turn her away. "I know that. And as much as I want to know what exactly is going on here, I believe you when you say you can't tell me. We all have our rights to our secrets, and I'll allow you to keep yours. Just," he paused, appearing to carefully chew over his words before continuing, "please, let me know if there is anything that I can do to help."

She reached out and squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Steve. I really don't deserve you."

Steve scoffed. "Of course you do, Viv. As big of a pain in the ass you are, you're still _our_ stray, remember? We take care of each other, that's the deal."

Vivian smiled at him, the happiness and gratitude that his statement caused clearly expressed in the soft lines of her face and the brightness of her eyes. "And if you never need anything, I'll be there. Because you're absolutely right—that's what friends are for."

Steve returned her smile and stood, ruffling her hair once more. "Damn straight, kid." Vivian chuckled, apparently finding Steve's sudden willingness to curse in front of her to be hilarious. Perhaps that's another thing being friends meant. "I'm going to go to the diner and get us some food. Want anything in particular?"

Vivian made to protest, but Steve cut her off. "I know that you like to think that cooking for me is part of your payment for living here, but don't worry about it. You can hardly move around like this. Just let me help you out with keeping us from starving this once."

Vivian rolled her eyes, but couldn't protest his logic. So she told him her order and shooed him on his way.

Once he left, she let her head fall back against the couch and closed her eyes. This had been a terribly draining day, and all she wanted to do was sleep. But now she had too many things to consider. Dr. Klaus and his mutants were a large concern, and were not at all a factor she had truly considered before she began her mission. She had hoped to steer clear of them, but that seemed to be an impossibility at this point.

Her friendship with Steve and Bucky was also a point of concern. Steve, at least, already knew more than he should, and it didn't escape her notice that he had never actually promised to keep this a secret between them. But she understood that—Bucky was his best friend, and she couldn't force him to not tell him. Well, she supposed she could, but the thought of stealing Steve's willpower didn't sit well with her. She may be doing a vast variety of disingenuous and arguably immoral things on this mission, but abusing her friendship with Steve would not be one of them.

Which was the most ridiculous part—she wasn't even _supposed_ to be friends with Steve. Friendship led to compassion, and compassion in her particular situation could lead to her making some terrible choices that could damage the timeline.

Vivian groaned, pressing her palms to her eyes in an attempt to ward off the stress-induced headache that the painkillers weren't able to prevent. All she was supposed to do was find Hydra files and burn them. Yet she found herself in a close friendship with Captain America and, god forbid she even admit it, developing _feelings_ for the Winter Soldier.

She wasn't sure if she would actually manage to survive this mission anymore.

* * *

Bucky was enjoying chow when the mail was delivered. He had truthfully been awaiting this day with anticipation for a while now. He had sent out his letters to Vivian and Steve just under a week ago, and he was hoping to hear back from them soon. He knew without a doubt that Steve would reply—he could always count on Steve to be there for him. It was Vivian, as always, who was the wild card.

So when he was handed three letters, two from Steve and one from the aforementioned auburn-haired beauty, he was overjoyed. Though, as he was currently surrounded by hundreds of other men, he took great pains to hide it.

"Did your girl write you back?" Goddard, the man sitting to his right, asked, elbowing him roughly in his side.

Bucky laughed, bragging, "Of course she did!" He didn't bother correcting him about his use of "my girl." It felt true enough, and Vivian would never know that his fellow soldiers recruits to her as such.

"Well aren't you going to read it then?" another recruit, Johnson, asked, a smirk on his tanned face.

Bucky hesitated, not really liking the idea of reading what she had to say in front of the others, but eventually nodded. He _did_ really want to know what she had to say. But Steve's letter would come first; or at least one of them would, which seemed only fair considering he had sent him two for some inexplicable reason.

The letter was short and sweet, telling Bucky that he was fine and not to worry, that Vivian and his mother were doing well too. It seemed like everything really was carrying on normally, and Bucky was both relieved and a little distressed to know that Steve was handling his absence so well.

He had just finished reading the letter when it was smacked out of his hands. "Come on!" Goddard rolled his eyes, setting Steve's letter down and handing him the one with Vivian's name on the return line. "Read your girl's letter so we can embarrass you already!"

Bucky chuckled, saying "Alright, alright." He didn't know why they were so curious, but he knew that neither Jefferson or Goddard had anyone of note to write home to, so perhaps they were hoping to live vicariously through him. Though they would be sorely disappointed as Bucky wouldn't be sharing any details about Vivian's letter if he could help it.

The letter was somehow simultaneously exactly and not at all what he had expected. He found himself laughing through most of it, relishing in the redhead's wit and teasing that he hated to admit that he missed. He was Bucky Barnes—he was supposed to make women all around Brooklyn miss _him_ , not pine after one woman who seemed to thrive off giving him a hard time. But he supposed that may be precisely the reason _why_ he was so enamored with her.

Her insistence that they were both fine without him stung, just as it did when Steve had penned it, but her admission that she missed him, stated in her usual roundabout way, brought his smile back in full force. He was reading her signature, another typical move on her part to both let him know that she did care but that she was loathe to show it, when he realized that his companions had pulled something from the envelope that he had failed to notice and were currently gawking over it.

"What's that?" he asked casually, though he was desperate to rip it out of their hands and find out for himself. But that was one of the first things he learned about basic training—don't show any emotions if you don't want to be ridiculed for them later.

Goddard grinned wolfishly at him while Johnson whistled. "She's prettier than I thought, that's for sure. Though I guess that makes sense for a pretty boy like you."

Bucky blinked in shock at Johnson's statement. "It's a picture?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, it's a grocery list. Of course it is!"

Without further delay, Bucky snatched the square picture from his hand before they could stop him. His breath caught when he finally was able to see her, and a slow, sedate smile spread across his face despite any previous efforts to remain cool.

He had forgotten how pretty she was.

The small photo featured his redheaded roommate reclining against a tree, her legs curled up under her and a book in her lap. She was gazing at the novel with fondness, a small smile curving her lush lips upwards ever so slightly, and she was tucking a lock of her auburn hair behind her ear. The picture could never do her justice—it lacked the color and warmth that brought the actual woman to life. But it reminded him of one of the many things he was missing while he was here.

"When we get released, I think I'll take a trip up to Brooklyn to meet this gal myself. I'm sure I could convince her that she's with the wrong soldier," Goddard sniggered, still stuffing his face with his lumpy military-grade mashed potatoes.

"If either of you come anywhere near her, I will kill you," Bucky said without looking up from the picture, soft smile still on his face. The others decided that it was perhaps best to leave the subject of Bucky's girl alone.

Johnson cleared his throat and slip the last envelope to him. "Don't forget you got another one. Jesus, my mom won't even write me back, but your friend sends you two letters in one day. I'm not so sure the girl is the one you're really with," he joked, giving Bucky a smile that was all malice. He only rolled his eyes and took the letter.

The smile had still been on his face and Bucky had feared that he would be wearing it for the rest of the day when the contents of Steve's second letter quickly corrected him.

 _Bucky_ ,

 _I wasn't sure if I should write you about this or not, but I figured that you would want to know, so here we go:_

 _Vivian was attacked yesterday afternoon. Before you panic too much, because I_ _know_ _you and you always freak out about stuff like this, she's fine. It's mostly bruises and maybe a few fractured ribs, but she seemed to be doing a lot better this morning._

 _She told me that it was some guy that works for a group that doesn't really like the guy she's been looking for. It turns out that 'friend' is actually an old employer of hers, so I get the feeling that she's really in some kind of trouble. She told me that was all she could tell me, and I knew better than to push her. Buck, she just looked so scared for a second when she made it back to the house. She never even looked like that when she faced that drunk the day we met her. I don't know what kind of trouble she's in exactly, but it can't be good._

 _I'm looking out for her though, so you shouldn't worry too much. She actually begged me not to tell you—she said she didn't want to distract you with her problems while she was away. But I thought that you deserved to know. Still, I think that it would be better if you didn't mention it to her. She seemed pretty upset about the whole thing, which is completely understandable considering she just got her ass kicked, and I think that she means it when she said that she can't tell us what's going on. I'm afraid if we push her too far that she'll only be in more danger._

 _Speaking of which, she offered to leave since she's now worried that staying here will put me in danger somehow. I told her that she needed to stay, and I figured that you would agree considering you're not-so-subtly pining after the poor girl. Not that I would have let her leave even if you don't_ _agree, so if you have any objections, keep them to yourself. I know that this all seems extremely suspicious and probably criminal, but Vivian's still a girl with nowhere else to go, and she's our friend. Besides, she cooks a lot better than you, and I don't think that I can go back to eating at the diner every day._

 _Anyway, I'm sorry that I have to tell you like this, and I really hope you don't worry. She's healing up just fine and I'm not letting her leave the house until she can at least breathe without sounding like a chain-smoker again. She's in good hands Buck; and you don't need to worry about me either._

 _-Steve_

"Hey, Barnes… What's wrong, pal?"

Bucky didn't bother answering as he stood up, all three letters clutched tightly in hand, and left behind his tray of food and the other two recruits who watched him leave with twin expressions of confusion.

He didn't know where he was going, and he didn't really care. He needed to find something to hit until he could get the image of Vivian's mangled face and Steve's prone body out of his mind.

 **A/N: Another long wait due to work and school taking over my life, but at least it wasn't nearly as long this time! This update was also delayed because I decided to go back and update the last five chapters (my God, the typos…) and this site has been having a lot of issues this weekend, so that made it a bit difficult. Also, a lot happened in this chapter, so that's pretty exciting (or at least, I thought it was exciting).**

 **Speaking of which, in case anyone was confused, the Emma Frost depicted here comes from** _ **X-Men: First Class.**_ **I'm working with this under the assumption that she was around Magneto's and Xavier's ages in that movie.**

 **I want to say thank you to all of you for sticking with me through my infrequent updates. Your wonderful reviews are what keep me motivated to write this, especially when I am convinced it sucks. So thank you to AshlandBarnes17 (Batmanskittles17 is that you?!), MarieBloom15, WereGrounder, and Ocean for reviewing last chapter. And a special shoutout to Moniquita for pointing out a serious issue with Chapter 4 after I updated it, as well as for making sure I don't leave this story to die lol. And thanks to everyone who followed and favorited as well.**

 **I'd love to hear what you all think about this chapter and where this story is going, and I'm always open to criticism, ideas, and even discussions about how the MCU is killing it with these past two releases and how Infinity Wars may actually kill me. Until next time!**


	7. Rule 7: Don't Pick Fights with Large Men

"Nice form, Vivian!"

Vivian only grunted in acknowledgement of Walt's praise from across the gym, continuing to pound at the padded fists that were positioned in front of her face.

Walt was the owner of Bucky's gym, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a soft belly—not really someone she expected to handle boxers every day. But he was tolerant enough of her and had a decent sense of humor, so Vivian couldn't complain.

He had, admittedly, been resistant to allowing her to actually train at the gym. Bucky had been the one to give her access to the gym after hours when she had wanted to train previously, but after her encounter with Emma Frost, Vivian realized that she needed to train more than the sparse hours when the gym was empty. But when she had turned up at the gym three weeks ago, Walt had originally laughed and informed her that his gym was no place for a "lady." However, a closer look at her abused face and an offhand comment about being a friend of Bucky's had convinced him to allow her to come in and workout for that day at least.

That had been all it took to get her a more permanent status at the gym. Vivian had been prepared to have to persuade him to let her stay, but it had been unnecessary after he saw that she had more training than many of his younger boxers did already. So she came to the gym every afternoon and ran and practiced throwing punches as much as her still-healing ribs would allow. She stayed clear of the weights that a majority of the men hung around, and for the most part they had gotten used to her presence in their gym.

She, of course, sill sporadically heard many thoughts and, more frequently, whispers about how strange it was for a woman to want to spend time at a gym. At first, the speculation had been that she was trying to catch someone's attention, albeit in a very unconventional way. But she didn't show up "dolled up" or really even dressed remotely attractively—she wore loose fitting gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt that did little for her figure. Both were Bucky's, chosen because they were much more accommodating than Steve's that were too tight in many areas, but she hoped he never found out that she had taken to wearing his clothes—she would never hear the end of it.

This strange behavior combined with the fact that she rarely spoke with any of them unless approached, assured the boys that she was not actually fishing for a husband. So they were left to wonder as to what exactly the odd redheaded woman who kept to herself-and seemed liable to knock out anyone who questioned her-was doing at Walt's gym. For the most part, they left her alone and barely registered her presence after nearly a month of this conundrum.

"Still here, Ginger?"

For the most part…

Vivian sighed heavily and shook her head before stepping away from her partner. "Jordy, nice to see you as always. Can I help you?"

Jordy sneered at her in what was clearly supposed to be a display of intimidation, and said, "You can help me by getting outta my gym and finding a better way to spend your time. Like embroidery or cooking or whatever it is you women do."

His intimidation tactics were probably effective against many of its recipients, considering his large stature, rippling muscles, dark, beady eyes that reminded Vivian vaguely of a shark, and his buzz-cut blonde hair. Vivian, however, was not swayed by his intense glare and haughty derision. She had experienced worse and had no intentions of giving in to a man who objected to her presence in "his gym" solely because of her gender. So she smiled prettily, as she knew Jordy thought all girls should, and told him, "You can go fuck yourself."

When Jordy narrowed his eyes and started to close the meager three-foot distance between them, Collin, the man she had previously been punching, stepped forward, gloved hands raised. "C'mon Jordy. Just leave her alone. She ain't hurtin' nobody."

Jordy snorted. "Of course she's not. That's why a little missy like her has no business in a gym like this. We're here to train to hurt people—not passing the time playing around, trying to be one of the boys."

Vivian wasn't particularly bothered by Jordy's viewpoint on women, primarily because she knew her value, and the patriarchal beliefs of this time period were the least of her concerns. However, she certainly wasn't going to pass up the chance to put a misogynist in his place when the opportunity had so wonderfully presented itself.

"Tell you what, Jordy," she said, impish grin sliding across her face as she leaned closer to him in an attempt at intimidation. It, of course, had no effect on the gargantuan in front of her. "If I am able to land a single, pain-inducing hit on you, I can stay. If you turn out to be as superior as you claim and I can't, I'll leave. How does that sound?"

"Oh, Vivian," Collin chimed in again, looking at her with immense pity. "You don't have to do that. He doesn't have the authority to kick ya out."

Vivian didn't bother responding as she extended a hand out to Jordy, maintaining eye contact solely because she knew it bothered him. It also allowed her to notice the slight tick in his jaw as he glared back at her, and she knew seconds before he answered what he would say.

"Fine," he grunted, reaching for her hand, and though he gripped it much tighter than necessary, he pumped it only once before releasing her. "But don't think that just because you're a girl, I'll let you win. If you want a fight, I'll give you a fight. Don't worry though," he continued as he walked over to the ring situated in the center of the gym. "I won't fight back—just block ya. Don't want to hurt your pretty little face too badly."

He sniggered as he held the ropes down for her to climb up into the right, smirking at her as though he was certain he would have no problem avoiding any attacks without doling out any of his own. She knew he really didn't want to hurt her—just wanted to protect the "sanctity" of his precious gym—but she had really had a rough couple of weeks and a good fight was just what she needed. Not to mention the irritation that his constant provoking jabs at her caused. So, she only smirked and said, "Don't bother holding back on my account," before grabbing the top rope and swinging up into the ring.

Jordy was quick to follow her, not even giving her a second look as they approached opposite corners of the ring.

Walt was waiting for her, a frown etched on his aging face. "Kid, I think you're making a mistake."

Vivian smiled. She had been making a lot of mistakes recently, but this wasn't one of them. She may not be able to properly defend herself against a thirteen-year-old mutant, but she could show a group of 1940s finest men that women were perfectly capable of defending themselves. She supposed that's what this entire challenge was about—she may have been failing in several aspects of her mission, but she could still teach some men a lesson about respecting women. She needed to regain her confidence in herself and in her mission, and as misguided as it is, kicking Jordy's obnoxious ass was just the ticket.

"I get that a lot."

She turned from the concerned gym owner and met Jordy in the middle. She was used to the way men watched women when they thought nothing would happen to them for it, so Jordy's near-black eyes tracking her every movement as she joined him did little to deter her. It did, however, prompt her to take a dip into his mind to ensure that no nefarious ulterior motives to this fight lurked around.

She was relieved to find that not only did Jordy solely want to "teach her a lesson" in the form of an ass-kicking (though not too rough, of course—he couldn't be known as the guy who had beat up a lady), he didn't even find her particularly attractive.

 _Too tall._

 _Too lanky._

 _My god, those_ freckles.

Vivian grit her teeth and attempted a pleasant smile. The days of men's unwanted unflattering thoughts bothering her had long passed, but that didn't mean she wouldn't hit him extra hard because of it.

"Jordy," she began.

He nodded. "Ginger."

Her eye twitched. He was definitely asking for her to humiliate him in front of his friends.

"Now, we both know that I can't beat you in a boxing match."

Jordy barked out an incredulous laugh and shook his head. "They why are we here?"

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Not all fights involve punching each other until one of us passes out. I'm proposing a straight fight—no rules, no limitations."

He sobered rather quickly at her suggestion, his eyes narrowing at her in disbelief. "So not only do you want me to fight you, you want me to do it without any limits?"

Vivian only hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I'm just suggesting a fight where everything is fair game—unless, of course, you're worried that will give me an unfair advantage."

Jordy's sharply-defined jaw clenched and his lip lifted into the beginnings of a snarl. Vivian had to repress a smile. The age-old "unless you're scared" line always worked on testosterone fueled males with too-large egos.

"Fine, Ginger, but remember—you asked for it." He gestured to Walt, indicating that they were ready to begin, before raising his fists into his standard boxing stance.

 _Predictable._

"Of course," she replied, immediately following the statement up with a right hook to the jaw when Walt rang the bell.

Jordy laughed at her brazen move, easily catching her much-smaller fist and holding her steady. It was an easy move to anticipate, but Jordy was an equally easy opponent to predict. Vivian had the advantage of never fighting anyone in this gym before, making any of her moves fairly unpredictable. Jordy was under the impression that she was untrained and unskilled, relying solely on the boxing matches that she had seen in his gym to guide her. She was only too happy to prove him wrong.

As Jordy yanked on her still-captured hand in an attempt to restrain her further, Vivian stepped forward and spun on her left foot, bringing herself close enough to Jordy to drive her elbow into his heavily toned stomach.

Jordy reeled back, sputtering in surprise and hopefully just a bit of pain, releasing her hand as he did.

He looked up at her through narrowed eyes, but upon seeing the mocking quirk of her brow and barely restrained smirk, he grinned at her. "You caught me off guard, doll, I'll give you that. It's good to see that you've got the fiery spirit to match your hair, but it won't do ya much when you're this outmatched."

Vivian scoffed. Jordy was clearly trying to save face, but she wasn't interested in helping him out.

She waited patiently for him to make his next move, knowing from watching past matches that Jordy wasn't the patient sort. He proved her right only a moment later when he lumbered forward almost cautiously.

She knew that as much as Jordy couldn't stand for her to challenge him in his own turf without retribution, he didn't want to actually hurt her, limiting him to purely defensive moves if he wanted to spare himself from having a reputation as a woman-beater.

Vivian did not actually have an issue with helping him on that front at least.

As soon as Jordy stepped within arms-length of her, Vivian shot forward, ducking under his raised arm and twirling back around to kick the back of his knee. As he crumpled onto his right knee, Vivian stepped back, giving him time to right himself.

As much as she loved taking cheap shots whenever life gave them to her, they would do her no favors with this crowd.

Jordy got back to his feet as soon as he regained his balance, and turned to face her. She didn't need to be a telepath to know that he was both surprised and infuriated because of her ability to get the upper hand twice now. It was clearly painted on his face and in the way that he was now stalking towards her, past reservations about fighting a _girl_ mostly forgotten.

When he came at her again, he reached forward with an open hand, attempting to grab her shoulder so he could pull her close enough to restrain her again, effectively ending the fight as there was no way she could break out of his hold if he was able to pin her well enough. So, in an effort to avoid this, Vivian made her first purely offensive and straight-forward move—she drew back her clenched fist and hit him squarely in his face.

This clearly caught him off guard, as evidenced by his shocked expression and the way he stumbled back from her. Vivian knew it had to hurt due to the sting of her own hand, but she also knew that it was nothing compared to the blows he was used to taking from men twice her size.

Still, it had the desired effect—it had caught him off guard and pissed him off enough to forego any more efforts at merely restraining her. He swung at her with his right fist, aiming away from her face to minimize visible damage. Nevertheless, she dodged to the left, grabbed his still swinging arm by the bicep with her left hand and grabbed his shoulder with her right, being sure to dig her nails into the muscle to remind him of who he was fighting, and swiftly brought her knee up into his abdomen.

Jordy crumpled forward from the force, and when he tried to pull away from her, Vivian twisted out of the way of his grabbing left hand, yanking his still-trapped right arm back with her. She hit the back of his knee again as she moved behind him and twisted his arm up behind his back, causing him to let out a surprised yelp of pain. As he fell to his knees once more, Vivian moved with him, bringing her knee up to the small of his back and using his momentum to send them both fully to the ground with Vivian on top.

There was total silence in the gym as Vivian tried to catch her breath while still using all of her weight to keep Jordy pinned to the ground. He wasn't resisting much, however, seeming to have accepted his fate. Either that, or he was too shocked that she had managed to knock him down to move.

"Well," Vivian panted, not bothering to hide her grin any longer. "How's was _that_ for a woman?"

Her question broke the silence, and someone from the crowd let out a resounding _whoop_ before beginning to clap. The rest of the onlookers quickly followed suit.

Jordy grunted and moved slightly in her grasp, prompting Vivian to let go of him and stand up, readying herself for the tirade that was sure to follow.

The blonde behemoth rolled over onto his back and studied her for a moment before suddenly letting out a gasping, somehow still booming, laugh. The redhead reeled back in surprise.

"Well," he said, rising easily to his feet, apparently unbothered by his injuries, both physical and reputational, "I guess you aren't as helpless as I thought."

He clapped a hand to her shoulder as he passed her, but left the ring without another word. Vivian turned to follow him with her eyes, but lost sight of him as he disappeared into the locker room, followed by his friends, no doubt giving him a hard time about the fight.

Vivian's grin broadened. That had actually gone much better than expected, and it had successfully lifted her spirits.

The clock situated above the exit caught her attention at that moment and she cursed. Steve would be waiting for her at the diner, just as they had agreed earlier that day. Vivian rushed to exit the ring, clambering ungracefully over the ropes and dropping down amid several congratulations that she tried her best to politely acknowledge as she dashed towards the exit.

* * *

"Sorry I'm late!" Vivian huffed as she plopped into the booth opposite Steve, sending him an apologetic smile. Or at least, she attempted to. She wasn't really sure how convincing it was considering the obnoxious wheezing sound she made with each breath she took.

Steve frowned at her, further signifying her attempts at a carefree apology were not as successful as she had hoped. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, waving him off. "I was just running a bit late and had to run to get here."

Steve reached out and caught her hand before she could lower it back down. He inspected it for only a moment while Vivian could only manage to stare at him in bewilderment before raising a brow and holding her own hand out to her as though it were evidence. "Just running late, huh?"

Vivian winced when she caught sight of the already bruised flesh of her knuckles. "Something like that," she said, withdrawing her hand.

Their waitress, thankfully _not_ the nosy redhead this time, choose this moment to come take their orders. Vivian's relief was short-lived, however, when Steve immediately brought the conversation back to her when she left.

"What happened?"

The concern in his voice was palpable, and Vivian had to smile in response. Steve had a way of making his concern feel like protection, even when he was five feet tall and asthmatic, and that was a comfort Vivian desperately needed thanks to the past few weeks. "It's just from the gym. You know I've been going there since, well… you know."

Steve relaxed at her explanation, but the relief on his face was quickly overshadowed by his exasperation. "You're still healing, Viv. You shouldn't be roughing guys up at the gym."

She let out a wheezing laugh. "Me? Roughing guys up? I would never," she said, winking at her blonde friend conspiratorially. Steve, however, didn't seem to share her humor on the subject and remained quiet and continued to stare at her in disappointment.

Vivian sighed. If Steve's concern could make you feel warm and cozy, his disappointment had the ability to make you feel worthless. "It's nothing, Steve. I'm fine."

"Oh? How's your ribs then?"

Vivian tried to hide her grimace at the mention of her still-healing fractured ribs. They were, in fact, twinging rather painfully at the moment. She had done a good job of taking it easy to help them heal until today, and she hadn't noticed the pain until the adrenaline form the fight had worn off. But now they seemed to be pulsing with pain in time with her heartbeat, and she couldn't seem to catch her breath or stop making that god awful _wheezing_ sound. "Touché."

Steve sighed and dropped his head to his arms that were resting against the table. " _Vivian_."

" _Yes_?" she asked, sipping at her water carefully.

Steve's head tilted back just enough for his eyes to peer up at her from the table. "Why are you doing this?"

Vivian managed to contain the laugh that wanted to escape at his defeated expression and exasperated question, muffled by his arms, but she could still feel the uncontrollable twitching of her lips as she nonchalantly replied, "Doing what?"

Steve's eyes narrowed and he raised his head fully, probably to give his glare the maximum level of severity. It wasn't as effective as she was sure he hoped. "You know what. First, you get attacked under mysterious circumstances that you won't disclose. And _now_ ," he continued with a stern look when Vivian opened her mouth to protest, "you're going to the gym, full of guys with loose morals, to presumably _train to fight more mysterious criminals_."

"The guys at the gym aren't _all_ bad, Steve," said Vivian, with a roll of her eyes. "Besides, isn't your _best friend_ a member of said gym?"

Steve threw his hands up wildly. "That's not the point and you know it!"

Vivian's mood sobered and she nodded seriously, leaning forward and looking directly into Steve's fierce blue eyes. Said blue eyes narrowed in response to her sudden shift in demeanor, preparing for her response.

"You're right, Steve. The point is that you don't like that I put myself in danger and got my ass kicked because of it. And you're worried because you think that I _keep_ putting myself in danger because I won't stop until the job that I came to do is over."

Steve nodded slowly, suspicious that the usually argumentative redhead was agreeing with him. Vivian's lips quirked in response. Steve definitely had good instincts, even before he had the muscle to back them. She knew that aligning herself with Captain America was a risky move in her situation, but she couldn't seem to regret it when it gave her the opportunity to befriend and make an ally of one of the most compassionate and shrewd men she'd ever met. And she knew that if she were actually able to safely tell him about her mission, he would do whatever it took to help her, because she was his friend and he would always stand by his friends.

But she still had a point to make, and she wasn't going to let fierce, pint-sized Steve distract her from that. "Sound familiar, Steve Rogers, Brooklyn's resident moral-driven punching bag?"

Steve's eyes widened in understanding before immediately narrowing again. "That's different, Viv."

Vivian cocked her head at him in challenge. "Oh? Why?"

Steve blinked at her owlishly, struggling to come up with an answer. Vivian couldn't help but smile at him—it certainly wasn't his fault that he was raised in an era when women simply didn't do what she did, but at least he had the good grace to not outright say it to her face.

So she said it for him.

"Because I'm a women? Or because dealing with mu— _people_ like the one who attached me is part of my job, not just a self-righteous hobby?"

"I—I'm not self-righteous!"

Vivian cocked her head to the side and gave Steve a _look_. "Not the point, Steve."

"Here you go!" Steve and Vivian both jumped as their waitress arrived with their meals. She had almost forgotten they were actually there to eat. "Let me know if you need anything else."

Neither of them touched their food.

"Look, Vivian," Steve said, massaging his forehead as though their entire conversation had left him with a massive headache. "I didn't mean that you aren't… _capable_. You're clearly more able to protect yourself than I am. But you're still my friend. And I'm still going to worry about you. So, if you could please keep the physical injuries to a minimum, I would greatly appreciate it."

Vivian smiled at him and picked up her fork, preparing to actually start eating. "I'll try my best as long as you do. Deal?"

Steve returned her smile. "Deal."

* * *

Another five days had passed, and though Vivian was still training at the gym full of "questionable men" every day, she had headed Steve's request and taken it easier, focusing more on building strength. She already had a lot of basic knowledge about self-defense thanks to living with the X-Men for nearly half her life, but if she was going to be facing adversaries with the ability to block her telepathy (not to mention she really wasn't supposed to be using said telepathy on anyone in this time period unless strictly necessary anyway), she would really need to make some major improvements.

Unfortunately, however, Walt's gym was not where she was currently. No, at that moment, Vivian was undergoing an entirely different workout.

" _Shit_ , _shit, shit,_ " the mutant chanted, attempting to regain her balance. She breathed a sigh of relief when the mop bucket stopped teetering on the dinning room chair that it was currently stacked upon. She brought her focus back up to the ceiling and promptly cursed again when a drop of water splattered on her forehead.

The repairs to the ceiling were not going as well as Vivian had hoped. It had started leaking the night before, and Steve had promised to help her patch it up after his class that afternoon.

Vivian had intended to have the ceiling fixed before he returned, as a sort of surprise and thank-you for all that he had done for her since she moved in with them. However, after about forty-five minutes of wobbling on top of the chair, she now had very sore arms, shaking legs, an ungodly amount of paste and water splattered on her body, and the understanding that she really had no idea how to properly fix a leaky ceiling, she knew that she should have waited for Steve after all.

She had just resigned herself to the fact that fixing the leak would have to wait when she heard the door open and shut behind her.

"Oh, Steve! Thank God you're back early," she said with immense relief, not bothering to look behind her as she attempted to _carefully_ climb off her perch. "It turns out that I have no idea what I'm— _ah_."

Vivian gasped in mixed surprise and fear as gravity finally caught up with her and she fell backwards off the rickety chair, along with the bucket that had leaned too to the side. She had closed her eyes and braced for impact, cursing her stupidity all the while, when she came into contact with not the floor, but a solid chest and firm arms that gripped her tightly against aforementioned solid and deliciously warm chest.

Vivian, realizing that it was not Steve who had entered the apartment after all, gasped again and opened her eyes, gaping up at her apparent savior.

Her eyes immediately collided with the cerulean blue ones that she had been deprived of for over a month now, and she smiled breathlessly up at Bucky, who was looking down at her with a strange mixture of happiness and worry.

"Nice catch," she wheezed, because it was the only thing she could think to say and he was still staring at her soundlessly. She tried not to focus on the way that he was holding her—his arms curled protectively around her body, one supporting her legs and the other cradling her back, and she was pressed close enough to him to feel his warmth and every breath he took. It was also exceedingly uncomfortable given her mostly-healed, but still tender ribs. But Vivian was not going to complain and risk Bucky putting her down.

She was also not going to examine that thought any further.

It seemed that she didn't have to anyway, as whatever spell had come over Bucky to leave him silent broke at her words. "Well, it's certainly not the welcome I was expecting, but I'll take it."

He was smiling at her then, and Vivian couldn't breathe for an entirely different reason now. She had hoped that some time and distance, not to mention a serious encounter that left her with no doubts as to how serious her mission was, would relieve her of whatever delusions she held about James Buchanan Barnes. But all this time, and the stupid, gorgeous man could still undo her with a simple smile and a flash of his blue eyes.

Not that she would ever let him know that. And neither was she tempted to delve into his mind to see if she affected him the same way. That was a question she did not need answered, and regardless of whatever (completely hormone-induced) feelings Vivian had for the future Winter Soldier, she could not become any more involved with him than she already was.

Which is kind of hard to do when she lived in his apartment and was currently being held in his very muscular, drool-worthy arms.

Vivian cleared her throat and began to squirm in Bucky's hold. Her current predicament was not helping her overall predicament at all, and Bucky, blessedly mistaking her look of discomfort as pain, gently lowered her to the ground.

Once she was settled, she looked back up at him with the same smile that seemed to be refusing to leave her face. "You're back."

Bucky's own smile turned gentle and he said, "I'm back."

"I thought you weren't supposed to come home until tomorrow?" Her senses finally returned to her after her near-fall and swoon-worthy catch, and she took a step back in an effort to put some much needed space between them.

Bucky shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I wanted to surprise you."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Of course you did. I'm not sure how fond I am of surprises after the past few weeks, but at least this is a pleasant one," she teased.

Bucky tensed, his reaction as visible as it was unexpected—his soft smile and laughing eyes turned into an uncertain frown and a stern gaze. Vivian didn't recall him being so sensitive to banter before… maybe boot camp really did change a guy?

"Yeah," he said, reaching a hand up to run a hand through his hair, like he tended to do when he was uncomfortable—which was rare. He also seemed to be unable to meet her eyes. "I heard about that."

Ah. So it wasn't boot camp then.

Vivian's frown matched his and she was suddenly uncomfortable as well. "Steve?" she asked, though it was unnecessary. Who else could have told him?

Bucky nodded in the affirmative anyway. "How are you?"

An odd question, all things considered, and it surprised her enough to make her smile. "I'm fine. How are you?"

Bucky rolled his eyes, but didn't return her smile. "Well I just got back from boot camp, so about as good as you expect."

Vivian wasn't smiling anymore.

"Listen, Viv…" Bucky said, tugging on his hair once more but finally meeting her eyes. "You know that you can talk to me about… what's going on with you, right?"

Vivian raised an eyebrow. "What's going on with me?"

"Yes," Bucky sighed. "Whatever it is that you're mixed up in. You can talk to me. Or Steve. You know we'd both do whatever we could—"

"I know, Bucky," she said, taking a cautious step forward. "It's not what you think—"

"That's the thing, Vivian," Bucky interrupted her this time, punctuated by his hands being thrown up in frustration. "I don't know what's going on. I don't know a thing about you."

Vivian hugged herself tightly and began to worry her lip between her teeth, suddenly extremely self-conscious. She did not like where this conversation was going but she was ultimately unable to truly refute Bucky's statement. He and Steve really did have no idea who she really was—a telepath from the future sent to save mutants from discovery. Still, she wanted to think that they knew her well enough by now—who she really was, underneath her mutation and her feigned confidence—to mean something.

So she found herself muttering, barely audible in the silence of her borrowed apartment, "That's not true."

All it took was one sentence, likely taken more seriously than he meant it, and Vivian was once again her fourteen-year-old self, a friendless freak who lied to everyone so that they would still like her, but cursed with the knowledge that they didn't anyway. So though it was a major invasion of his privacy, and something Vivian had promised herself she wouldn't do unless absolutely necessary, she did what she would have done then, what she was born to do—she raised her head, stared directly into his conflicted blue eyes, and read Bucky's mind.

She was greeted by flashes of his memories—all of them featuring her in some way:

The first time they met, where Bucky saw her staring down a drunken idiot with all the fire and daring of a soldier. _She was a fighter._

She was smiling up at him in gratitude, all bruises and wet skin and happiness, and she was agreeing to stay with them. _She was resilient._

She, Bucky, and Steve were gathered around the kitchen table, happily munching on bacon and swapping stories about their terrible neighbor. _She was funny_.

She and Bucky were dancing, and he was looking at her in a way she hadn't noticed at the time—he watched her movements carefully, memorizing the way her dress twirled around her slender, freckle-splattered legs and the way she smiled up at him in breathless elation before continuing their banter. _She kept up with him, mentally and physically, in a way no girl before her had._

She was yelling at him now, with the barest hint of angry tears in her storm cloud eyes, as she defended herself. _She wouldn't take his shit. She cared about Steve, almost as much as he did._

He was staring down at the picture she had sent him, the one he had just rescued from his no-good friends. The one he wanted to burn into his memory so he wouldn't forget the way that she looked while he was off fighting a war. _She was absolutely beau—_

Vivian ripped herself from his thoughts, her cheeks tinting a horrific shade of red. She had just wanted to see what he thought, if he truly didn't trust her. She had gotten much more than she had bargained for, and she knew that no matter what she told herself now, she would never be able to let Bucky Barnes go the way she should.

No man had ever looked at her like that, _thought_ about her like that. It was unsettling, but it also caused her heart to swell in ways she thought she was immune to.

"I guess you're right. I _do_ know you, which is what makes this as hard as it is for me to sit back and watch."

Vivian jolted, forgetting that she was actually waiting for a verbal answer from Bucky. Though what he said just confused her further. "What do you mean?"

Bucky did the hair-tug thing again, and if this conversation weren't so serious, Vivian might have noticed how attractive it was. "I… I care about you Vivian. It's not like Steve and I just take in strange girls all the time, and while I do know you, who you are as a person, we have little to no idea of what you're doing here or why you keep running in to trouble."

Vivian's lips quirked up minutely. "You think I'm strange?"

This time, Bucky did smile, though it was accompanied by an exasperated sigh. "You do that a lot you know. Avoid questions."

Vivian shrugged helplessly, struggling to find an answer that wouldn't make this worse. "Trouble just has a tendency of _finding_ me, Bucky." When he just raised an eyebrow in response, she hurried to try again. "I can't give you any details—it's the nature of my… job. But I can tell you that I'm here for a reason and that it's very important. And that I would tell you everything if I could."

Not the most eloquent or satisfying of answers, but Bucky seemed to be thinking it over nonetheless. When a few more seconds went by in tense silence, the resigned mutant heaved a deep breath and focused on a particularly interesting section of the carpet. "Look… if it makes you uncomfortable, and you don't want me staying here and being around Steve anymore… I get it. I can be out in ten minutes."

"What?" Bucky said, and Vivian snapped her head up to see the bewildered look on his face as he took two large steps to rest directly in front of her. "What are you talking about? That's not what this is about at all!"

Gray eyes blinked up at him in confusion. "It's not?"

"No!" Bucky reached out to grip her shoulders, but seemed to think better of it when she winced at his tight grip. He instead slid his hands down to rub lightly, comfortingly on her arms. If she was shocked at his reaction before, his gentle handling of her now left her in a state of awe. "It's just that I—that is, Steve and I—really care about you. That means we want you to be safe, and it kind of rubs me wrong when you come home looking like you went a round at the gym."

 _If only he knew_ , Vivian thought.

"I want you to stay, Vivian," Bucky continued, inclining his head down far enough to make sure she was holding eye contact. "I just want you to be okay, and I can't make sure that you are when I don't know why you're in whatever trouble you've gotten yourself in, y'know?"

Vivian chanced a weak smile. "I don't think you're supposed to care that much about strange women, Buck."

Bucky froze, his hands tightening on her elbows and his eyes blinking down at her in some state of confusion or shock, she wasn't sure which. But the moment lasted only a second, he was giving her his Bucky Barnes smirk again so quickly Vivian was almost certain she had imagined it all.

"Yeah," he said, his grip on her arms gentling once more, "I think you're right about that."

"For what it's worth," Vivian said, "I care about you and Steve too."

Bucky opened his mouth, surely about to say something about caring about strange men, when his fellow strange man burst through the door.

"Bucky!" Steve exclaimed, wheezing uncomfortably. "I heard you were back! I thought you weren't supposed to be here until tomorrow?"

Bucky gave Vivian one last meaningful look before turning to face his best friend. "I guess good news travels fast, huh?"

Steve didn't seem to register the response though, as he had just noticed that Vivian was in the room and he was too busy fixating on the way Bucky was still holding onto her right arm. "Am… I interrupting something?"

"No," Vivian said, blushing despite her best efforts again, and gently extracted her arm from Bucky's grip. "So," she said, "how would you gentlemen like to celebrate Bucky's return?"

The change in subject seemed to work. Steve shot Bucky a coy smile. "Let me guess. Dancing? Drinking? Dames?"

Vivian rolled her eyes, relieved the attention was off of her but annoyed by this new direction in topic. "Why not all of the above?"

Bucky's smile turned sly as he turned his head to the side to face Vivian, almost as though he knew what she was thinking. "Or none of the above. I was thinking more along the lines of taking my best pal and my best girl to see a movie and then coming back here for dinner. You're not the _best_ cook Vivian," Bucky teased with a wink, "but anything is better than the slop they serve at boot camp."

Vivian ignored the dig and made eye contact with Steve across the room. They had identical expressions of surprise and they turned to face Bucky to ask, in unison, "Really?"

"Yeah," Bucky said, trying to shrug it off as he made his way to the couch where he had dropped his duffle bag in his haste to catch Vivian. "Why wouldn't I?"

Vivian and Steve exchanged the _look_ again, but chose not to question it further. "Okay then…" Vivian said, still looking at Bucky warily. "I'll just go get ready then."

She avoided eye contact as she passed Bucky and Steve on her way to Bucky's room. And though she pretended that she didn't hear Steve whisper, "Best girl, huh?" to Bucky as they made their way to Steve's room, she couldn't keep the grin off of her face or stop her heart from pounding in rhythm with her restless thoughts about a certain blue-eyed soldier.

* * *

"I can't believe you cried! It's not even supposed to be a sad movie!" Bucky crowed, slinging his arm around Vivian's shoulders as they exited the theater.

They had just finished their screening of _Casablanca_ , a movie that, though a classic in her time, Vivian had not seen yet, much to Bucky and Steve's surprise. And now she was being teased ruthlessly.

"Oh, come on, Buck," Steve jumped in from Bucky's other side. "We both know you teared up the first time you saw it."

"I did not," Bucky refuted indignantly, turning to glare at his best friend.

Steve, however, ignored him, shooting Vivian a wink behind his back. "Yes, he did."

Vivian giggled, prompting Bucky to amp up his defense. "I had a cold Steve! You know that!"

In an effort to prevent anymore mindless banter between the two "men," Vivian interjected, "I know it's not supposed to really be sad, but the fact that he sacrificed his happiness for hers was just…" She trailed off with a helpless shrug, unsure of how to continue.

The boys seemed to understand though, if Bucky's appraising side-eye was anything to go by. "Yeah, I guess you've got a point. It's still pretty—"

"Well, if it isn't Bucky Barnes!"

Vivian barely restrained a groan as they turned to face the man who had just shouted at them from down the street. She definitely knew that voice.

Bucky smiled as he caught sight of his fellow gym rat, though Vivian noted it was more strained than his usual smiles. "Jordy!" he called, waiting for the older man to catch up with them, Vivian still under his arm on one side and Steve standing on his other.

Vivian and Steve made brief eye contact before simultaneously rolling their eyes. It seemed that Steve was familiar with Jordy as well.

Bucky and Jordy shook hands before Bucky proceeded to politely introduce Vivian. "Jordy, this is my friend, Vivian. Vivian, this is—"

"Well I'll be damned!" Jordy exclaimed, having just noticed Vivian's presence. "It's you! Well, that makes sense I guess."

Bucky dropped Jordy's hand and looked between Vivian and Jordy in suspicious confusion. "Excuse me?"

Jordy laughed in his typical fashion (i.e. obnoxiously) and Vivian rolled her eyes. "We've met," was all the answer she provided.

"Met?!" Jordy exclaimed incredulously. "She kicked my ass! Well," he amended with a sneer in her direction, "as much as a lady such as yourself is capable of."

"This is the guy you beat up at the gym?!" Steve helpfully chimed in, looking at her with wide eyes around Bucky's still stiff form.

Vivian shrugged.

"Hey," Jordy protested, crossing his arms over his chest as if to draw attention to his bulging muscles. "I would hardly say that she beat me up."

"Oh yeah?" Steve retorted. "Then what's with the black eye, pal?"

Vivian hadn't noticed before, as she was dutifully avoiding eye contact in this very awkward situation, but she did then. Jordy was definitely still sporting his black eye from earlier that week, though it had faded significantly. She couldn't help but smirk in pride regardless.

"Okay," Bucky said, having finally snapped, dropping his arm from Vivian's shoulder as he took a step closer to Jordy. "Would someone please explain what's going on here?"

Though the question appeared to be directed at all three of his companions, he had eyes only for Jordy. This did not bode well for the rest of their evening.

Jordy held up his hands appealingly, apparently picking up on the fact that Bucky was not pleased. "Just had a friendly match with your girl at the gym earlier this week. She packs quite the punch," he surprisingly complimented, gesturing towards his eye. "I just meant that it makes sense, her being tied to you and all."

"I'm not—" Vivian began to protest, but was cut off by Bucky, who apparently had bigger issues than his and Vivian's relationship status.

"So, what you're sayin' is that you had a _fight_ with _Vivian_?"

Jordy narrowed his eyes, apparently unsure of how to proceed, and Vivian and Steve exchanged a nervous glance. She wasn't sure what kind of testosterone-fueled showdown this was, but she wasn't a fan.

"Listen," she said, placing a hand on Bucky's arm to get his attention. He acknowledged her with a glance out of the corner of his eye, but he apparently had no intentions of turning away from Jordy. "I challenged him to the fight and I won. No harm, no foul."

"So, let me get this straight," Bucky said, finally turning a half-step toward Vivian as his focus returned to her. "You went to my gym." A nod in confirmation. "You challenged this idiot to a fight." Another nod. "While still _injured_." Another, more hesitant nod. "And you still won?"

Vivian pursed her lips, but still nodded in the affirmative. "Yeah, that about sums it up."

The silence only lasted one more tense moment before Bucky was smiling once more. Vivian felt like she had whiplash as he slung his arm across her back and pulled her back into his side. "That's my girl! I should have known that I didn't need to worry about you."

Vivian considered refuting Bucky's claim on her, but couldn't bring herself to do it. It felt different from the way Jordy said it, as if it weren't possessive, but more… like he was proud to have her at his side. She couldn't remember the last time any non-mutant had made her feel that way, if such a time even existed. So rather than remind herself of the reasons that she would never really be Bucky's _anything_ , she allowed herself this one, brief moment while Bucky and Steve finished up their conversation with Jordy to bask in this feeling of comradery that she had so much trouble finding in her time, but Steve and Bucky seemed to welcome her with.

Before she knew it, they had left Jordy behind and were heading back to the apartment where Vivian was presumably supposed to cook for them.

"So," Steve interrupted the silence and shot a teasing glance at Vivian. She narrowed her eyes at him in warning, which he promptly ignored. "Are we just not gonna talk about the fact that Vivian took Jordy down in a fight?"

"It wasn't really a fair fight," Vivian protested in an attempt to be humble, though she wasn't sure why. She didn't even like Jordy. "He was trying not to beat me up too bad, and it's not like a _boxed_ with him."

"Still," Bucky said, shooting a still somehow proud-looking smile down at her. "You gave him a _black eye_. That's impressive."

Vivian returned Bucky's smile with a sly one of her own, suddenly feeling less humble and more like a badass. "Oh, I did more than that."

Steve and Bucky both laughed at that, and Bucky squeezed her a little tighter to his side. She hadn't even noticed that he was still holding on to her.

"What am I gonna do with you two?" Bucky groaned, suddenly more sober than he was a minute about, though only slightly.

Vivian raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"I'm gone for a month and you and Steve can do nothing but get yourself into fights! It's like you were made to cause trouble."

"At least one of us can win them," Steve shot back good naturedly, grinning at Vivian.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah," she said. " _Some_ of them."

Bucky sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "You know Vivian, when we took you in, I thought that you would maybe help keep Steve _out_ of trouble. Little did I know, you were just another pain-in-the-ass version of him."

"Hey," Steve protested in mock-offense. "We are not _that_ alike."

"Yeah," Vivian agreed with a wink at the blonde. "I'm taller."

Steve narrowed his eyes. "I'm a better artist."

"I can actually win a fight, on occasion."

" _I_ pick the fights I get into. The fights _find_ you."

"I know how to cook things that aren't soup- or tomato-based."

"I know how to patch a hole in the ceiling."

"Hey!" Vivian protested, barely able to keep her smile in check anymore as they neared the stairs to their apartment building. "I was just about to—"

"Alright, alright guys," Bucky finally interrupted, looking far too amused as he ascended the wrought-iron stairs, throwing them a smirk over his shoulder. "You're both pretty." Cue dual eye-rolling. "Besides, we both know who the _real_ pain in the ass is."

Vivian and Steve exchanged looks as they followed him up the stairs, before declaring in unison, "You."

"Exactly," Bucky grinned back at them, unlocking the door and ushering them inside.

Vivian's mission was certainly not panning out the way that she had hoped, but as she, Bucky, and Steve all crammed into the kitchen to make what would turn out to be a rather terribly-cooked chicken dinner, she couldn't make herself regret it. Her time here with them seemed more real than most of her life had, sequestered away in Xavier's mansion, hiding who she was from the world.

She still had her secrets—even more now than she did before—but Bucky and Steve had a way of making her feel like she still belonged, despite all of that. This felt like home to her, and in away, they felt like they were her home too.

She couldn't help but shed a few tears as she lay in bed that night, thinking about all that she would have to lose in the coming year to save the future and wondering if it would all be worth it if she had to watch this life burn away right before her eyes.

 **A/N: Finally! Chapter 7 is complete. I had intended to actually take us into CA:TFA, and get started on, you know… the actual mission that this plot is supposed to be centered around. But, as always, I got a little carried away. But I've already started on the next chapter, so this next update should come much faster!**

 **As usual, please favorite, follow, and especially, review! I love hearing from each and every one of you, and whenever I get writer's block or consider dropping this story, I read your lovely reviews to motivate me to keep going. You guys are all the best!**


End file.
